


Heartless

by rsfahrudeen



Series: Song of Sabriel [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 43
Words: 161,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27287167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsfahrudeen/pseuds/rsfahrudeen
Summary: Seven years have passed since Just Cuz, and the children aren't doing all that well. Ben and Abigail are struggling with their chosen place in the world. The twins are starting to grow apart and Riley is not even close to over her father's suicide. Things aren't going so well in the mirror verse either. Ben and his mother's relationship is not that great at the moment. Bree has yet to let Mirror Michael repair their relationship, and her Raphael still hasn't come back yet.When things go from bad to worse, will they do the right thing, or let themselves slip on downward path.
Relationships: Abigail & Chris, Abigail&Riley, Abigail/Ben, Alex&Raphael, Alex/ Raphael, Bree&Mirror Michael & Mary Winchester, Bree/MirrorRaphael, Chris& Riley, Dean/Castiel, Helel&Ben, Mirror Harahel& Undhi, MirrorHarahel/Mirror Alex, Sam/Gabriel, Shelly & Alice, Shelly/Alice
Series: Song of Sabriel [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/477571
Kudos: 1





	1. The Kids Are Not Okay

Chapter 1. The Kids Are Not Okay

  
  


“I do remember being the only one.” Michael speaks fairly quiet. “Elo, our father, wasn’t there all the time. Or even most of it. I was always confident he’d return. But it didn’t make it any less difficult being all alone. Sometimes in the beginning, I’d explore heaven, my little corner of existence. Some of the time, he’d leave me tasks to accomplish and I had all the time in the world to complete them.

“But even so, when he was gone, I felt empty. I couldn’t always distract myself from it. There were moments when all I could do was exist in the pain of his absence. It gave me a feeling. I can now describe as cold. I had not tears to shed. I just tried to feel fuller bigger stretching my flames out as far as I could. Things got destroyed.” he confesses, rubbing the back of his neck.

Abigail doesn’t laugh, like her cousins would. She just looks at her ‘Aunt Miqa’ with solemn brown eyes and a serious thoughtful expression. The way she nods almost makes Michael believe she understands. It’s a relief that she doesn’t. No one alive does. Michael takes comfort in that when he can’t take comfort in anything else.

“It sounds cruel.” Abigail replies just as softly.

“It was necessary. I needed to learn self control and self reliance before I could be trusted with younger siblings. I needed to appreciate them.” Michael shrugs. 

“I still think it was cruel.” his niece argues just like her uncle once did.

“It was what it was.” Michael kisses her forehead. “I don’t generally like to talk about it. Some angels think I’m just embarrassed about things I did as a fledgling, my mistakes and failures. But it’s mostly, being alone. People think they know what true silence is, but they don’t. I’m not just talking about hearing. I’m glad you don’t, though.” He smiles fondly at Raphael’s child.

“You can still feel alone.” She looks off into the frozen landscape. “Even with everyone gathered around you. You can still feel empty, even if you have everything in the world.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Abigail.” Michael pulls her closer into a tight hug. She doesn’t resist. 

“Not in any way. You know that right?”

“Yes, Auntie.” She lies, resting her head on Michael’s chest. She doesn’t really want to talk about it anymore. Especially not here. “This wasn’t your fault either, Auntie.”

“I know.” Abigail wonders if she’s as obvious a liar as her aunt. “Are you comfortable? You’re not too warm? Too cold?”

“No, Auntie.” Abigail replies. The coldness of the snow and stone around her makes Michael’s warmth feel wonderful, and the warmth enhances the pleasure of the cold snow. “We were talking about Uncle though, until, I asked you about what it was like when it was just you.”

“Yes, we were.” Michael takes a breath. “When father made him. There was a softness to him I’d never felt before. A purity I can’t even really remember. He was so beautiful and his joy filled me with rapture. Father handed him to me and it was as if he gave me a tiny piece of himself to keep with me while he was away.That’s true of everything he ever made in a way. It’s easy to loose sight of that. But sometimes, it’s impossible to forget.” He tweaks Abigails nose. She hates that but it means he’s feeling slightly better, or well enough to fake it at least, so she puts up with it. She just gives a brief sigh.

“I appreciate the gesture, but I’m not in the mood for compliments.” She leans back against the beir, feeling like an absolute brat for saying it. “I don’t need to be reminded I’m loved.”

“What do you need,then?” He just accepts it, like he always does with her.

“I don’t know.” She lies again. She needs her Uncle. Michael gets enough of that from the twins. She won’t say it. Not to Auntie Miqa. Not ever.

“I miss him, too.”

“I didn’t…”

“It’s okay to miss him. It’s okay to want to talk to him again and get his advice and guidance. He was good to you. He gave you good advice. With you, he was everything he was meant to be to humanity. The twins as well, of course, but you were the first human being to ever know Helel Ben Sahar, and not Lucifer. I know you think you need him, but you don’t. Not anymore. You have a good mind, a loving heart, and steadfast spirit.” 

“I just want him back.”

“ So do I…” Michael sounds a little unsure, though.

“You have the twins to look after. I know.” Abigail reassures him. “Everyone has so many responsibilities. I know all their histories with him, and I understand. I know he doesn’t want to come back and I know why. I wouldn’t know how to help him even if I did manage to get him back.”

“I don’t know if Mom’s really that good. I know she couldn’t really get anywhere with him before. And I know that with the pain he was in, it’s just pure selfishness to want him back. But I still do.”

“You have to let him go, Abigail. “ Michael says softly. “You are a young women with a bright future and a full life ahead of you. He would want you to prosper and rise in the world. I just want to see you bring your beautiful light to every life you touch. I have faith that you will, no matter what direction you take you take your life, we all do.”

“Thank you.” Is all Abigail can bring herself to say. She already knows that. She’s always known that. That’s why she needs her uncle.

“Welcome home.” Alex waves to her daughter as Abigail enters the apartment. “Laundry stop or supply run?” She asks the college student.

“No, I thought I’d say hi.” Abigail walks over to the bar stools by the center island and sits down.”Do you want to go out to eat somewhere?”

“No. There’s a batch of fresh lasagna rolls that just needs reheating. I’m continuously surprised at how long they last now. Of course, I still can’t get over that whole

feeling that if I don’t eat them now, they’ll be gone before I get back.”

“Well,” Abigail smiles,”It’s only been seven years.”

“That and the twins aren’t home, either.” Alex pulls out a glass dish. “Would you like some?”

“Yes, please.”

“How are classes?” Alex grabs the spatula and spoons the lasagna into a couple styrofoam bowls.

“They were going to make me Valedictorian, but I don’t have time for that so I handed in a C paper for Art History. Well,maybe a failing one, I’m not sure. If it’s anything more than a C- my entire degree is probably worthless.” Abigail shrugs and looks down at the stone countertops.

“That must have been a lot of work.” Alex pours them both some sparkling cider.

“More than writing a good one would have been to be honest.” She takes a drink. “How are things going with you?”

“Same old, same old. An eternity of work shoved in into a few small decades. Not enough time for you or your father or much of anything but work. But it’s satisfying though.” Alex gives a smile. “Ah, you’ll know soon enough.”

“Mom?” Abigail looks at her glass, but doesn’t say anything else. Alex just places her hand over her daughter’s and waits silently for her to speak. Unfortunately, the microwave starts beeping. “I’ll get that.”

“No, I’m right here” Alex sighs and swivels the stool around. It’s so hard to get her to speak about things. And the harder it is to get her to speak about things the more important it is for her to do so. “Here,” Alex hands her a styrofoam bowl, which is partially melted from the oil in the sausage being heated by the microwave. “I have to go make a few phone calls while this cools off. You don’t have to wait for me.” She kisses her daughter on the cheek and goes back to her office.

“If you have work to do, it’s alright.” Abigail picks at the lasagna roll.

“Actually, I’m just double checking to make sure I don’t. “Comes the reply. “We’re going to go to the park, go outside, sit in the sun and feel the breeze. Maybe we’ll get some ice cream. We’ll probably do some people watching, just the two of us. We both need a break and a little sunlight. Maybe I can see about moving my office to a sunlit meadow.”

“Or abba’s green house on the roof.”

“That would make sense, though we’d have to rearrange things. I mean, at least for spring and fall. Okay, give me a second.”

“Okay.” Abigail replies and just keeps eating as her mother quietly reschedules her appointments.

Abigail’s been silent for almost an hour, the longest time yet, thinking or not thinking. She’s probably had three ice cream cones so far. Time to break out the big guns.

“It hasn’t escaped me that this is the third anniversary of Jamal’s death.” She says bluntly.

“It hasn’t escaped me either.”

“Talk to me, honey. Don’t make me worry your father. Because I’ll do it.” Alex threatens. 

“I don’t want to talk to you, mom. I don’t want to talk to abba. I just… I don’t want to talk.”

“Yes, you do.” Alex gently corrects her.

“No, I don’t!” Abigail stands up. That was probably a push too many. “You don’t know what I want. So don’t pretend that you do.”

“I do know, Abigail.” Alex stands as well, “You want your uncle, but he’s not here. I am. And there’s not a thing you could say to him that you can’t say to me. Luci was not the only one who loves you. And he’s not the only person you can trust to love you no matter what always and forever.” Alex reaches up to take hold of her daughter’s hands before she can walk away. Much to her surprise, tears start to stream out of her daughter’s eyes. “Oh, Abby. Just talk to me, honey.” She hugs her tightly, letting Abigail cry into her shoulder. But she still doesn’t say anything.

“Hey, Grandpa.” Bruce looks over Sam’s shoulder at the emails he’s working on. “You don’t have to go hunting or anything do you?”

“No.” He closes the laptop and reaches back to toussle the seven year old’s red hair as the boy rests his head against her.

“Grandpa..” He scowls and lets go to put his hair back in order. I’ve told you about that.”

“Where’s your mother?”

“Asking Uncle Dean if he wants to go watch Chris and Riley practice their routine with us. I’m supposed to ask you to come and hog tie you and drag you to her if you say no. She gave me a tranquilizer gun. So can you come?” Bruce smiles his biggest most charming smile as his grandfather turns around to face him and what is clearly just a squirt gun. “Gotcha.”Bruce squirts it at his nose.

“With your mother, i’m never completely sure.” Sam takes it back and squirts it back.

“So can you? Or do you have something more important to do than spending time with your only grandchild.” Bruce doesn’t quite pout and puts his hands behind his back. 

“Your poor fatherless little grand son with no body his own age to play with, no brothers, or sisters, or cousins.” Bruce gives him the puppy eyes which only his Auntie Miqa is fully immune to.

“I’m just working on emails and lesson plans.”Sam grins at him. “Maybe you should wit to pull out the big guns until you hear an actual no.” He picks the boy up and puts him on his lap.

“I don’t like ice skating. It’s boring and stupid.” Bruce tightens his lips. “If you come we can play.”

“This is news to me. I thought you loved figure skating,” Sam looks down as his grandson crosses his arms.

“It’s stupid and girly. Only sissies like figure skating.”

“I like figure skating. Your uncle’s like figure skating.” Sam reminds him.

“Yeah but you all killed a lot of things and saved the world. So your man card can’t be revoked.” Bruce informs him with an air of authority. 

“Where did… does this have anything to do with Jeffery Newman?” Sam demands. Bruce doesn’t say anything which means yes but he’s afraid to say. “Are he and his cousins giving you trouble?”

“I’m not hurting anyone, I promise.” Bruce says quickly. “I know I’m not supposed to hurt other humans, but mom says I can’t go hunt monsters or anything either, so I’m trying to be more manly some other way. But it’s not working and Janice thinks I’m a girl too, well, I mean, she said I had a big feminine side and the twins are getting picked on and made fun of all the time and I hate it. Why do they have to be all weird on television for the whole world to see?” His little cringe is fairly distressing, as is the clear fear that he’ll be treated that way, too.

“Because they’re not ashamed of who they are and what they like. Plus they love screwing with people. I know it’s not fun feeling like you and your family are different, even freaks. But there’s nothing wrong with being different. There’s nothing wrong with being similar either. If someone doesn’t like who you are or what you like, that’s their problem.” Sam reassures him. Though it feels weird parroting what Dean said to him when he was a kid. It’s probably not very convincing, either. At least not for a few seconds anyway.

“Actually that’s kind of a big problem for me, grandpa.” Bruce corrects him. “Because they pick on me and make fun of me for it instead of just minding their own business.” He sighs. “Mom said that the next time they push me off things I can punch them in the head. But you said it’s wrong to start a fight with people and mom said you’re the best person to talk to about moral things and stuff.” Bruce looks so conflicted, probably misunderstanding the look of anger on his grandfather’s face. 

“Bruce. Tell me the truth. All those times you said you fell, you fell because you were pushed, weren’t you.”he demands a little harsher than he means to. 

“Most of them.” Bruce confesses, a little comforted by the fact that his grandpa’s just hugging him. “I’m almost always okay. It’s just embarrassing. And Mom Alice has to calm down mom every time she finds out so I have to just say it was an accident if she sees it.”

“No. No you don’t. You tell the truth. Now, lets go watch Chris and Riley. We’ll do something about it this afternoon when we get back.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Black Sheep

  
  
  


“Dishonorable discharge, huh?” The Sherrif comments as he drives his nephew home from the station. Ben doesn’t say anything. He just looks out the window at the trees on the side of the road. “I wouldn’t pry, but I can’t really see you doing anything that would warrant that.”

“A variation of Gross Insubordination. Mutiny,” Ben finally says after a long silence. “I wouldn’t let my commanding officer commit a war crime.”

“That sounds more like you.” The sheriff reaches over to give him a pat on the shoulder. “You should be proud of yourself, Ben.” Ben just gives a weak smile and keeps looking out the window. “Your parents will be proud of you, too.”

“I know.” Ben says simply, relieved when his uncle doesn’t say anything for a few minutes.

“So why are you sneaking back home in the middle of the night? No letter, no phone calls, no warning. Just a text asking me to pick you up from the station. It’s not for a surprise. You could have just taken yourself directly home at pretty much any point after you were discharged. Or are you leaving the binding seal intact?”

“It got shot through in the last campaign.” Ben replies, The Sheriff winces a little.

“So no on actually needing a ride.” He glances over.

“Can I spend the night at your place?”

“Sure.” Ben’s Uncle replies cautiously. “But you know someone’s going to notice you coming in. And I’m not going to be lying to anybody about where you are.”

“I know. That’s fine. I’m just… not ready.” Ben confesses. Reasonable enough. No one at home was happy he enlisted. Though his father did understand, he had mixed feelings on the subject. His grandmother reminded him that he would be killing human beings when he himself wasn’t one. It wouldn’t be a fair fight. His mother put her foot down, flat out forbidding him from doing so. Which of course ended up as expected, a battle of wills that resulted in Ben shielding himself from detection then binding his angelic powers with a tattoo when he left home a few days before his birthday. He didn’t say a word to anyone about it.

The Sheriffs opinion was, of course, not welcome at all. This kind of thing had happened before with his brother and according to his Grandma Winchester, had happened with their father and Grandpa Winchester. It was partly political but mostly because Henry had wanted to initiate his son into some kind of lodge or fraternity. The two never reconciled and lost the chance when all the members died of heart attacks within a single week.

And so now Ben is the third Winchester to defy his parents wishes and enlist in the marines. It’s enough to make him wish Ben’s children will be born with flat feet or something. Just to avoid the arguments, emotional trauma, and strained relationships.

“You can sleep in Bobby’s room. He’s off doing a stint in the peace corps. You know, getting some travel in, seeing the world before he settles down somewhere. I kind of get the feeling he’s already fallen in love with the organization, though. You know? He might stay in it at least until he settles down.” The sheriff proudly informs his nephew.

“And Mary Ellen?”

“She’s here, but just until she finishes her residency. She’s going to work with Doctor Drummond and try to save up for the downpayment on a house. Personally, I just think she’s waiting for old man Harrson to die so she can snag his place.”

“Taking over the neighborhood I see.” Ben grins at this.

“Hell, we keep this up, we’ll have the street renamed Winchester Terrance. Or just Hunter street or whatever. A couple hunters have been able to buy a few places near the end of the street. Soon this’ll be the safest neighborhood in Kansas.”

“Or the most dangerous.” Ben comments.

“Depending on who or what you are, absolutely.” The sheriff briefly glances back over to his nephew. “It’s good to have you back home, kid.”

“Thanks, Uncle Dean.”

“Good Morning Dean Bean.” Mary gives her son a kiss on the cheek as she comes down the stairs. He grudgingly tolerates it. It’s still weird having a mother with a body twenty years younger than his, though it did turn an embarassing nickname into an annoying one as the person saying it looks more like a little sister than his mother. “I can’t help but notice someone’s sleeping in Bobby John’s Room.”

“Ben came home.” He replies, returning the kiss. “Since I came home to a note that Jo and Sam were off on a hunt, it turned out okay. Helel always has someone take her to the abyss to do her work while they’re away so I don’t need an excuse for why he’s staying here instead of there when they find out he’s here.”

“He’s twenty and obviously didn’t let them know he was coming, so I’m sure there will still be questions. How long is he here for? Is he okay?” Mary looks back up the stairs.

“Hes not injured or anything as far as he’s let me know. I don’t know how long he’s back for, but if he’s leaving, it won’t be to go back to the marines.” The sherrif replies, flipping his omlette. “Are you busy? Can you stick around for a bit in case he comes out. The poor kids been sleeping for a couple of days.”

“Sure. I’m just trying to find Michael, basically. Some goober asks him to help out on a hunt less than a week before a romantic weekend for a late anniversary celebration. I haven’t heard from him since.” She rolls her eyes. He probably broke his phone again. With grace or without it he has an innate talent for destroying technology. She finally had to resort to getting him a cheap flip phone on one of those elderly people plans just so they can afford the replacements.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Dean reassures her.

“I know he’s fine. I just wanted to go help him with whatever he’s hunting so they can wrap it up before I have to cancel the reservations and loose our deposit. We’ve already lost out on the sleeping car on the cross country train ride. Honestly though, at this point I’d just like to know what’s so major it’s taking this long to finish but not big enough for him to ask me for help.

“It’s just my luck no one was home next door.” Mary continues, plopping down in the nearest chair. “And of course Helel is still not speaking to me, as if Ben’s not speaking to her is my fault somehow. This whole month has just been a complete mess.” She accepts the plate of omlette and orange slices from her son. “Thanks, I’m finally in an old enough body to enjoy myself again and there’s no freaking time. You’d think a second youth would be more fun, but nooo.”

“That’s just becasue you and Michael are still the same people. I love that you call your mid thirties ‘a second youth’.” The sheriff chuckles. “Is the nightingale giving you trouble?”

“No. Still no. She’s actually been pretty well behaved since Raphael left. Though I prefer to call it clinically depressed. The effect is the same anyways. I know she’s up to something though. I have no idea what it could be, but she has run a long game before.” Mary starts to unpeel her orange.

“I have to admit, her edits and additions to the Hunters RPG Wiki have saved alot of lives.” The Sherriff breaks a few more eggs with vigor. He hates the idea of admitting it, but it has to be said.

“No Sam’s game and it’s website have saved lies. She just hacked into it and baffled us by providing good information. It’s been saving lives since before she stopped destroying them.”Mary refuses the nightingale any credit for anything involved in that game. “And it was fact checked and referenced by Harahel since the little bitch absolutely cannot be trusted.”

“It was a collaboration, which was even more impressive.”Dean points out. Not that he like defending the devil but Michael’s been really happy with her progress lately, even if it’s not in regards to their sisterly relationship.

“Oh Harahel’s part absolutely. Bree praned and teased that angel the entire time they worked together.” Mary glares at the plate. “I don’t trust her and I never will.”

“That’s more than fair, mom. What if she is really truly trying to change, though?” The sherrif reluctantly puts the idea out there.

“Then she can do it without my trust and good will. I try my hardest to ignore the fact of her existence and that’s the best she’ll ever get from me.”

“True. Something’s dragging her kicking and screaming into actually doing good things and being a better person or just behaving that way at least. And it’s not any of us. Maybe for Ben a little. She’s behaved herself relatively well for his sake before. But not to this extent.”

“Michael thinks she’s trying to get Raphael to come back, but how would he learn about any of it? And it that was true, she’d be trying to repair her relationship with Michael. Instead she just seems to hate him more and more each passing day. Especially when he compliments her behavior and tells her how proud he is at everything she’s doing. I swear it’s like watching you and Sam all over again.”

“Oh, come on, mom. Sam got pretty bad, but I wouldn’t compare him to the nightingale.” The Sherrif protests.

“You know damn well what I mean Dean. An older sibling doing everything he can to

help and love his younger one only to be met with scorn and hostility. I don’t understand why he just… takes it. I want to punch her in the face even more every time I see it but I did promise Sam not to. “ Mary stabs the omlette with her fork. “Everything she’s done to Sam, to us, to humanity, none of this is enough. Not even close.”

“She has to start somewhere, though, doesn’t she?” Mary and the Sherrif look up to see a drained and exhausted Ben in the door way just as ridiculously tall as his father.  
“Hey, pumpkin.” Mary smiles at him. “Welcome home.”

“Hi grandma. Thanks.” He leans on the frame, slouching down again like his father. “Uncle Michael’s missing or did he just break his phones again?”

“Probably. I doubt it’s anything serious. He knows how to handle himself.” She shrugs.

“Where was he last? I’ll go look for him for you.” Ben rubs his eyes. “Is my motorcycle still in storage?”

“It’s at the garage. But don’t worry about it. Michael is just fine. You just take care of you for a few days.” She leans back to pat the hand on his pocket.

“I’m fine. And no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Here. Eat up.” The sheriff holds the next plate out to Ben who comes over to take it 

before sitting down across from his grandmother at the table. It’s still kind of strange having to remember not to call his Grandma ‘Grandma’ in public. His Uncle Dean is greying with wrinkles. He’s fairly sure that his mother is the reason his father isn’t.

It’s almost as strange as flipping through the album of the Junior Goddess of Karaoke photo shoots his sister gave him. Watching Abigail grow from a lovely thirteen to a beautiful seventeen and finally to a breathtaking twenty is just indescribable. His favorite pictures though are the christmas ones Shelly included in the book. Abigail is just sitting under the Christmas tree surrounded by presents. She’s wearing adult sized eeyore footie pajamas, with a hood and ears. She isn’t looking towards the camera and has an annoyed but affectionate grin on her face. So her mother’s still making her do that. He’s asked for an album of the eeyore photos next.

He’s tempted to pull it out and look at it again as he often did when he was feeling  stressed and wondering what the point of it all was. But he’s fairly sure it’s kind of unhealthy and not just because she doesn’t exist in the same thread of reality he does. It’ll never happen between them, but still. She reminds him that there is something in existence worth striving for. And if one day he can earn her forgiveness and even her love, it’s worth anything he’d have to go through.

Unfortunately his latest attempt to become the kind of man who could fix all the damage he’s done to her and her family has ended in abject failure like all the rest. At first he thought that hunting with his father would help him be more like the man he’s supposed to be. But all it did was show him how different he really was. It showed him how he couldn’t just accept things as they are without questioning absolutely everything. How he can’t stop trying for a better outcome. How he couldn’t stop arguing with people even while reminding himself what happened the last time he tried thinking for himself. He couldn’t just submit and obey anymore.

Finally he thought that maybe, just maybe he could be more like his father by doing what he did. The same training, the same situations, the same responsibilities. Maybe becoming a marine, one day one in the special forces, would help him become a man. But he never even made it close to that far.

He did the right thing. He knows he did the right thing. But he could have been wrong and cost his comrades in arms more than just their careers. He couldn’t have really known, they convinced him of that much. So often it felt like there was no right thing to do except protect his fellow marines. He managed that at least, but he still couldn’t make things right in the end. He was officially a failure. Rejected by the USMC. They saw nothing in him worth saving he was nothing but a sacrifice to the pr machine. His father was hardly more blindly obedient than he was but he rose as far as he could without being a noncom and faster than anyone. It’s time to face the facts. Ben’s just not good enough and he never will be. Maybe he’s just destined to let down everyone he cares about. Maybe he’d do less harm if he just stopped trying to be anything but benign.

“I was wondering.” Ben asks quietly. “If I could work at the garage for a little bit. I think… 

I think I’d just like to fix things for a while.” He turns the orange over in his hands.

“Of course.” Mary smiles at him. “But it’s your father’s garage now, so you’ll have to have to have him arrange things officially when he comes back. I know it won’t be a problem, though.”

“It’ll be a problem.” Ben says dryly “Just not with dad.”   


“You are always on that thing.” Alex looks over at Bree as she lays on top of the desk, right over Alex’s homework, like a cat. 

“It’s a cell phone and yes, generally everyone is nowadays.” Bree types in her question. “Luci-Chan says to ask you if you’ve been having cravings.”

“Yes. Hamburgers.” Alex can’t help but smile. “And Ice cream but mostly hamburgers.”

“No blood?”

“No. Still no.”

“Let’s see your teeth and gums.” Bree waves her over. Alex walks over and sits down baring her teeth. “Huh, it’s a little wrinkly, but still damn.” Bree rubs her gums all over, smoothing it out, but there are no slits or sharp points of hidden teeth no matter how hard she pushes up.

“And yes, I’m still drinking it everyday.” Alex informs her. “And I managed to keep down the burger. The whole burger.”

“Awesome! So how’s your love life?” Bree always asks about that and seriously seems to care immensely that she find someone.

“Non-existant. I’m studying, Bree.”

“Still in love with the wrong angel, I see.” Bree tsks, shaking her head.

“Bite me. And I’m not in love with any angel, but I especially don’t have a thing for your married big brother.” She tries to keep her mood down at just annoyance, rather than pissed off. Bree only thinks she wants that.

“Big sister.” Bree corrects.

“Fine, sister, whatever. Sure he’s hot but marriage aside, you have to admit that he’s just incredibly… Michael and that’s not going to change.”

“After all I’ve done for you, you can’t even try to do this one little thing for your poor old grandmother, who’s closer to death than she’s ever been before.” Bree pout at her pathetically.

“Every mortal being alive is closer to death than they ever have been before.” Alex retorts. “And you’re not Claire’s mother.”

“Adopted family is still family.” Bree chides her.

“You kidnapped her as a child and used her as a hostage to keep Castiel and his vessel in line. You just weren’t terrible to her. We both know she doesn’t acknowledge you as a mother figure in any way.” Alex reminds her. “But the vampire thing, I probably do owe you for working so hard at cureing me. But no debt in existence would be enough to make me try to seduce Mary Winchester’s husband. Besides which if I actually somehow succeeded, Denny would murder me faster than Mary would. You should ask her to do it.”

“There’s no point.” She reaches down and turns off the laptop again. “She’s been trying since she first met him. If she could have, she would have. Bree sighs and covers her whiskey eyes with her arm. “Luci chan says I should give up. Maybe she’s right. The whole things getting a bit dull. And I’m pretty sure you’d have to resort to what would now be considered rape to get him into bed and I do have limits, apparently.”

“Good, At the very least give up on having me do it.” Alex gets up and snatches the phone from her hands. “You never know, maybe he’ll find someone on his hunts. This is one weird otome game.” She looks at the little sexy chibi with brown hair and ice blue eyes. The shortness and huge bazoombas save it from being a chibi Helel but it’s still a little creepy. And very odd in that it’s fully, sensibly clothed at all times and even if she shakes the phone the boobies don’t jiggle in gravity defying ways, nor is the chibi constantly bouncing like she’s standing on ship anchored to the ocean floor with breasts made of beach balls like in ever other game with sexi Chibis.

“A sucky one, to be sure. I never get anywhere.” Bree crosses her arms.

“You’ve been playing this same game for seven years and no progress? You don’t seem like the patient  type. Nobody has any cheat codes or anything?”

“No, and it’s not exactly the same game. There’s been alot of major tweaks and adjustments to the entire format and stuff. Plus this is the fifth edition, with an interactive AI. There was SUPPOSED to be some nudity?” Bree glares at the phone accusingly.

“Well she is showing an unseemly amount of ankle.” This gets a laugh from the devil on the desk. “Oh and that hussy has an ear showing. Maybe you’ll hit the jackpot and get a flash of knee soon.”

“I’m so tired of this.” Bree holds out her hand for the phone, which Alex gives back without protest. The microwave dings. “But I love this damn woman. Oh, Luci-Chan, why can’t I quit you?”

“You do know it’s a game right? That’s not a real person, or people in there.” Alex takes out the extra bowl of ramen and hot dogs, placing it next to her frequent and usually uninvited guest. “Maybe you should put your attention towards an actual real life relationship.”

“I can’t. I’m trying to be faithful.” She does not look happy about it. “I hope he appreciates this.”

“What about your brothers, I meant.” The almost human girl suggests. “In non sexual way, of course. And I’m talking about Helel, but mostly Michael. You know he’s been trying, Bree.”

“Fuck Michael. She can get her brownie points else where.” Bree sits up. “I hope that’s mine, because I’m eating it.” She picks up the ramen.

“It is.”

“Mmm.” Bree takes a drink of broth.

“Don’t you miss him, though?”

“How can I miss someone who won’t go away?” Bree snorts, miraculously not getting anything up her nose.

“I mean the good times you used to have together, back in the beginning. He wants to fix things between you two. For whatever reason, why wouldn’t you want that?”

“I want her to leave me the fuck alone and forget about my existence entirely, never speaking to, looking at, or thinking or me ever again. I want her gone from this plain of existence with no hope of return. And I don’t want anyone to care that she’s gone.”

“Why do you hate him so much. He’s your brother.” Alex insists.

“Do you love and miss your vampire brothers? You know the ones who used you as pedophile bait and then let a few perverts have you before they killed them as punishment for trying to run away.”

“Sometime. Much to my chagrin. I mean I’d kill them on sight if they were still alive, but if they were as intent and sincere about changing and making things right the way Michael is. I wouldn’t be able to resist as long as you have.”

“Well, it’s different. I’m the first monster, she’s the first hunter. Need I say more? I think I have the right to hate someone who’s wanted me dead for about as long as I’ve been alive. Not that I was good enough before that. There is nothing worth going back to, Alex.”

“I understand that I guess. It’s hard to forgive someone you loved so much when they hurt you so badly for so long.” Alex commisserates.

“Okay, hold on there, Dr, Phil. I do not love that thing and I never did. Michael was never anything but a living example of how far I was from what I should be. I am the Anti-Michael. And nothing has changed. Even after she fell worse than I did, she’s still better than me.” Bree rubs her eyes. 

“You do know you’ve changed.” Alex holds out a can of soda.

“Well, I have been trying really hard.” Bree admits. “But not for her. She’ll never be satisfied until I’m exactly like her or Raphael or Helel, just so long as I’m nothing like me anymore.” Bree stops and chugs it before Alex can realize she just gave her regular and not diet. “I’m not even close to where I was when she just tolerated me. Whatever you call progress won’t be fast enough or going far enough for her. You’ll see. So don’t give me crap about sisterly love.

“ And did it occur to anyone that I don’t want to forgive her? Sure, she’s ‘forgiven me’ but for stuff I didn’t do. I’ve been forgiven for other people’s decisions and things that did hurt her personally in any way. What kind of bullshit forgiveness is that. The worst thing I ever did to her was make her bookshelf in heaven explode pink coral dust all over her.” Bree points out. “If people left heaven to come party with me that’s Michael’s own fault and not mine. I definitely don’t want to be forgiven for Raphael pushing her into the cage. I had nothing to do with that and she was preparing to do the same with me. Just because it was the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me doesn’t mean I had any part in doing it. Besides the things she did to me are now acknowledged as downright abusive. Even before I fell. 

“I don’t want to make things right between us. I don’t love her. I don’t like her and I don’t want to feel either of those things towards her. I’m just fine with hating her the rest of her life. I might forget how terrible she was eventually once she’s gone forever but now. I’m good with that. I really, really am. And you know what. Mama Miqa’s just going to have to accept that she’s not going to get her way! Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good. Now stop the armchair psychiatry and break out the stash.” Bree demands pointing a commanding finger at Alex.

“The what?”

“I know you’re hoarding Cadbury cream eggs. Give me some before I go looking myself.” She opens her palm.

“You know where it is, go ahead.” Alex plops back down on her bed.

“If I did, it would be empty by now. I’ve been purposefully refraining from looking so you’re welcome for that. But I have no problem holding you at gum point.”

“At GUM point?” Alex raises her head to look at her. Bree takes out a small sling shot and puts a large speckled ball in it. “That’s a jawbreaker.”

“Nope, gumball, it just feels like one.” She pulls it back.

“Fine it’s…”

“For the love of God don’t TELL me! Just go get a few dozen while I close my eyes, block my ears, and sing loudly to myself.”

“Seriously? Then who the hell’s been stealing them?!

“Your mothers probably.” Bree shrugs.

“Of course. Claire did learn from the best after all.” Alex sighs. “Alright after you finish eating a real meal I’ll break out my stash.”

“We’re eating ramen and hot dogs with soda.” Bree bluntly points out.

“Good point. I’ll be back. Black your senses.”

“Thanks, kid.”


	3. Booze and Babes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tris says something she's not supposed to.
> 
> Raphael accepts that not everything needs to be discussed as a family.

Chapter 3 Booze and Babes

“Heeeeyyyy,” Abigail smiles widely at the vampire walking through the door. “There’s my girl.” She lifts the bottle. “Still clean and sober I see.” She nods to the coconut water in Tris’ hand.

“Well, that makes one of us.” Tris kneels down before the lovely young woman in the lace teddy and silk robe. “C’mon, lets get you to bed.”

“No. No, beds are for people. I’m not a people. I’m a monster.”

“Abigail, I have slept in your bed, so I know that’s not true.” Tris scoops her up.

“You’re not a monster, you are a good good person who had some shit for luck. And you’re wonderful and I love you and you’re my bestest best friend I ever had and I love you.” The weepy young woman kisses Trisses cheek, while squeezing her neck in a crushing hug that only a vampire could live through.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you, too, your highness.” She pats the shapely butt before putting her 

down on the mattress.

“I need a drink.” Abigail tries to roll off to get some more alcohol. 

“No, you’ve had enough. You need sleep.” Tris pulls the covers over from the other side of the bed and tucks her into a little sushi roll. “Or do I need to call your dad and have him come sober you up?” This gets her to stay still at least long enough to either fall asleep or pass out. Tris isn’t sure which. 

It was a mistake to run the experiment today. No matter how much Abigail get’s reminded that it’s really a good thing she’s doing for those people, she always takes her failures hard. But tomorrow she’ll wake up and pretend that today’s drunken tears were all the release she needed to feel okay again.

“You really are giving them a better choice to make.” Tris rubs the sleeping woman’s back. “They got themselves into the mess they were in. You gave them a chance to get out of it, no matter what happened. They chose to do the experiment and whatever the results it was better than hell. And you know it.” Hopefully this time it’ll sink in, really sink in. But Tris doubts it.

Tris walks over to the bookcase and takes out an alchemy book. Maybe there’s something they’re missing. Something basic maybe. Not that she expects to find it tonight, but who knows. The sooner all this is over with, the sooner they can both finally be at peace.

“Beatrice.” The low bass of Abigail’s father startles her just as she gets comfortable. “I need to speak with you.”

“Uh, sure.” She straightens up, as he sits across from her on the other recliner. She’ll never get used to Abigail’s angelic relatives just appearing out of no where. It’s like an explosion of the senses that she can’t detect as a human. Like a flash bang.

“I’m worried about my daughter. Her mother is worried. So I feel that there may be something I need to know about my daughter that you might be able to tell me.” He leans forwards, resting his chin arms on his knees so looking intently at her.

“Me? Look, this.. Yes, we are kind of besties beyond besties, but that doesn’t…” Tris twists a little under the angel’s steady gaze. “There are of course things she doesn’t tell you, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to. Or would even really want to. The root of it is just that your daughter does too much, too fast, with out taking enough time for herself. Today just gives her the excuse to fall to pieces, which she needs. She’ll be fine, tomorrow, really.” Tris manages not to tell a lie.

“Why wouldn’t she wish to talk to us about that?” Raphael challenges her assertion. Shit.

“Because you people love and adore her and are always so accepting of almost anything she says or does.” Tris rolls her eyes. Raphael just looks as confused as Tris is at Abigails nonsensical complaint. “I know, I don’t get it either. She’s just so afraid of letting you down, you know. Mostly because you all seem so convinced that she never could. I don’t know. Just.. back off, okay?” Give her space. She’ll tell you stuff when and if she’s ready to.” She urges, though they’re usually pretty good about that.

“I don’t think you understand.” Raphael narrows his gaze. “I am CONCERNED. And what you may consider irrelevant or her own business is likely what’s causing my daughter great distress. You will tell me what’s going on. Do you understand me?” He outright commands her. Dear god that angel can be so damn terrifying when he wants to be.

“Yes, sir.” Tris shrinks down into the love seat.

The lack of hangover when she wakes up tells Abigail that her father stopped by last night. Hopefully it wasn’t because she called him. Hopefully she hadn’t called anyone else over before he got there. She just sighs and lays in bed. There’s nowhere to be today. Nothing she has to do. That’s why she drank last night.

“Abs, you awake?” She can hear Tris at the door with a very meek tone in her voice. That does not bode well.

“Yes.” She forces herself to sit up and rubs her eyes. “My father was here.”

“Yes.” Tris takes a breath before replying. “Your parents are really worried about you Abigail.” She walks in and sits down on the edge of the bed.

“I know. I’m sorry. I kind of ended out crying my eyes out when I was hanging out with mom. And I couldn’t bring myself to pretend to just ‘miss him so much’ anymore, so I didn’t say anything.” Abigail sighs and runs her fingers back through her hair.

“That would explain it.” Tris shakes her head. “He was incredibly insistent that I tell him what’s going on. Your father can be scary as hell, you know.” She grimaces and plucks at the comforter.” I hope you really like that. I mean, yes, he’s a big puddle of lovey dovey affection to you and your mom, but he is also the Archangel Raphael. Who is terrifying. Do you understand me? TERRIFYING.”

“What did you do, Tris?” Abigail eyes her warily. Not that she thinks she can’t find a decent way to explain absolutely anything she’s doing to him, but still, for him to find out this way.

“I, uh, told him about the prostitutes.” Tris winces quietly.

“YOU WHAT?!” Abigail’s brief second of calm is utterly destroyed by the absolute horror of Tris’ statements. “OH MY GOD TRIS! WHY?!”

“I had to tell him something! And it had to be something you would probably kill me for telling him and reasonably believable that you would never want to discuss with your parents ever if your very life depended on it.”

“And you were absolutely right about that, you absolute traitor! How could you?!” Abigail punches Tris’ shoulder as hard as she can. They both know it won’t exactly hurt given the positions they’re in, but Abigail is clearly trying.

“I don’t know! I’m sorry! I panicked!”

“They’re going to want to talk about it.” Abigail glares at her. “I know them. Abba’s going to talk to mom because he won’t know what to do about this,” She groans, covering her face with her hands. “And they’re going to want to clear the air and make sure I’m being safe and that I know I have the right to decide what I do with my body. Abortion might come up somewhere in the conversation, and we’re going to have to discuss why I’m doing this and how I feel about it. Tris. I’m not suffering through this alone. “

“Hey, I had to be interrogated by one of heavens greatest weapons who is not my father and try to keep what I thought were the bigger secrets at the same time! Cut me a little slack here!”

“I have to discuss my sexual history, no, my sexual activites with MY PARENTS, Beatrice! I don’t want to do that. No amount of love and understanding and acceptance could ever make me okay with doing that. EVER! Under any circumstances.” Abigail asserts.

“Not even under THESE circumstances?” Tris calls her bluff, or so she thinks.

“No, not even under these circumstances. You couldn’t have just said I had a drinking problem?”

“You’re not really ready to deal with that yet.” Tris retorts ignoring the cold stare she gets at this. “And I’m sorry, but I did tell you when we started that I would absolutely be throwing you under the bus so fast if it ever came to this. Didn’t I? And it’s your own fault they’re getting suspicious. You’re the one who’s working too hard, never taking a decent break or any real time to relax. All you have are your whores and your bottles. And that’s clearly not good enough!

“They’re worried about you… hell, I’m worried about you, Abigail. I don’t want you breaking yourself to pieces trying to do everything for everybody’s benefit except your own. You need a break. A real break a long one. And not at work.” She points an accusing finger at her friend. “Look, lets just think about it, okay?” Tris leans over to brush Abigails frizzy black hair from her face. “ Please,”

“Tris…”

“The worlds not going to end because you go on summer vacation this year. “Tris puts her fingers over her lips.

“Well, with this family you never know.” Is Abigail’s grumpy reply in that ungraciously defeated tone she gets when she’s lost an argument.

“It’ll be the only way to get your family off your back. If you slow down and take care of yourself a little better, they’ll stop being so worried about you.” Tris scoots closer and let’s her friend lean against her arm.

“You think so?” God she sounds so pitiful.

“Yes. And be grateful you have parents who love and trust you enough to actually do that. It’ll be okay, Abigail. I promise.”

  
  


“Is your grandson around?” The question is accompanied by a beer being placed on Sam’s desk,

“No he decided to stay in Ukraine with his mother and cousins and skate a little.” Sam looks up to see a troubled looking Raphael standing beside his desk.”Why? What’s up?”

“I need some advice. Father to father.”

“Sure. Um, pull up a chair.” Sam turns around to look for one. “It’s a little early for a beer, though, isn’t it?”

“Yes but this is a conversation that calls for alcohol.” The archangel takes a drink from his own special bottle before pulling a chair over. “My daughter is patronizing high end male prostitutes that work for a dating company on a regular basis.” Sam’s grateful Raphael doesn’t say it while he’s drinking, but he still drops the open can anyways.

“Excuse me? Abigail is?”

“Yes.” Raphael takes another drink.

“How did you find out? Did she use an emergency credit card? Did you … stop by at a bad time?” Sam winces at the thought.

“No to both, thank all that is. She had a small emotional breakdown when she was with her mother yesterday. I was concerned. I went to speak to her, but she was passed out drunk in her bed. Beatrice has already put her to bed and was keeping an eye on her, but it worried me even more.”

“And what? Tris just volunteered this information?” Sam prods.

“No.” Raphael confesses, looking down at his drink. “I may have put the fear of god into her.” Sam just sighs. “Abigail has been steadfastly insisting that she is doing well, eating well, taking care of herself, though I had my doubts. Physically, she is perfectly fine, though I had my doubts. Especially since tonight is not the first time I’ve found her passed out drunk. I understand that this is not a frequent thing or I’d be able to see the damage done to her body. Drinking today of all days makes it understandable enough. But given her mother’s history with alcohol… Her mother will have to have that discussion with her. It’s certainly not the behavior of someone properly taking care of themselves.”

“True.” Sam considers, leaning back in his chair. “She is at that age, though. Sex, alcohol, sorority, it’s pretty par for the course. Not usually for the responsible type, like Abigail, but it’s not unheard of.”

“Beatrice tried to tell me it was just over work and not enough self care.”

“I can absolutely see her taking on too much work. This will be her third bachelor’s degree, right? Sam asks. She’d planned the programs out with impressive precision and efficiency.

“That is true…” Raphael admits.

“She’s been pushing herself pretty hard. If she’s not ready to admit it, things are too much for her yet, then she’s just not.” Sam folds his arms across his chest. “But how did this lead to high end male prostitutes? I mean, in the conversation.”

“Because there was no good reason for her not to talk to us about any of those things. I was certain that she was, for whatever reason, hiding something from us. Something connected to her distress beyond the anniversary. Thus I refused to accept anything less than the truth.” Sam can commiserate with the bitter regret in his brother-in-laws voice.

“So what did you need advice on?”

“What do I do with this information? I’m just as concerned as before, except now I have an insanely delicate inappropriate subject which I will have to discuss with my daughter.”

“Actually,No. You don’t.” Sam interrupts him before he can go further. “You don’t have to say anything about this to her, ever. For as long as either of you two live. Or at least until the both of you stop feeling so uncomfortable about it.”

“This has to be addressed.”, Raphael asserts.

“If she was still a teenager, absolutely. But she’s twenty, a legal adult, for two years so no, it doesn’t.

“It doesn’t?”

“It doesn’t. At all.” Sam shakes his head. “She’s an adult, Raphael what she does sexually is absolutely none of your business. Just like what you and Alex do in the bedroom is none of hers. You don’t have to talk about it, or think about it, or even remember it if you choose not to.” This explanation doesn’t seem to satisfy him, though. “It’s okay to let this go. Really.”

“She’d behaving dangerously.” Raphael insists. “She’s heading in a very perilous direction. If I can’t talk to her about all of it, I’m not sure what good it will do.”

“You really think her drinking will become a problem?”

“I don’t know, but over consuming alcohol and sex with strangers aren’t the healthiest forms of stress relief. It just doesn’t seem like her. She waited until she was seventeen to make love to Jamal and they’d been dating for four years. She wanted to make sure she was really ready first. I can’t see how she can go from needing that intense emotional connection to with someone to high end male prostitutes. And her first time drinking was in England where Michelle took her for her eighteenth birthday. She got drunk after one beer and a shot of tequila. Michael had to carry her home. Tonight she had enough alcohol in her system to kill her eighteen year old self. Yet somehow her body shows no sign of the habitual use that would be required to drive up her tolerance that high. None of this is like her. I have to do something.” Raphael insists holding tighter to his bottle.

“I think you and Alex are just going to have to turn this over to someone else. You have no real experience with that particular, coping mechanism, though you may be starting to.” Sam teases nodding at the bottle. Raphael gives him a dark look. “You two just need to help her get past her need to drink to relax. It’s likely more like her mother’s crisis, than true alcoholism. So if anyone discusses that with her, it should be your wife. As for promiscuity, you’ll have to have someone with experience talk to her about it, if you still insist it needs to be discussed.”

“I don’t think Gabriel would be particularly helpful in this situation. Abigail finds her incredibly irritating. And she’s not exactly that fond of your brother who keeps calling her AJ.” Raphael shakes his head.

“Actually, I was thinking about Krissy.”

“Krissy Chambers is in a sexless romantic relationship with Harahel and satisfies her carnal needs by attending enormous orgies, pagan and otherwise, and experimenting sexually with Fenrisulf. She is not the person I want talking to my daughter.” Raphael says cooly, clearly disapproving of the huntress’ lifestyle choices and his younger sibling’s loving acceptance of the horrifying situation. “I don’t know who I could get to talk to her. She doesn’t like Dean. She would definitely not be able to talk to Michael about it. Or Michelle. She’s clearly talking to Tris but that doesn’t seem to be helping anything at all.”

There’s a moment of silence as an unhappy truth surfaces in their minds. If Luci were here, she’d be talking to him. And she probably would be as fine as she says she is.


	4. The  Ben Winchester Fan Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben's fellow marines come to give him back up.   
> Ben comes closer to cursing Harahel than he ever has before.  
> Mother meets prodigal son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long to get back on AO3. I was really struggling with this one. Abigail and Ben were giving me the most trouble. And of course covid and depression and writer's block

Chapter 4. The Ben Winchester Fan Club.

“Wakey wakey! Vegetables and sadness!” Ben hears, whispered into his ear. “You are still on that vegetarian kick, right?”

“Mm, no.” Ben takes a deep breath smelling what he’s too reluctant to assume he’s smelling. “Are those hash browns?” he peeks out of the covers.

“And a sausage free big breakfast.” His Aunt takes it out of the bag, like she slowly handing over contraband in a dark alley. There are two of them. With extra eggs on both. “And a couple Mcgriddle’s for me.” She smiles into the bag before noticing he big soulful eyes turned her way by the young man who’s pouting face is famed by the comforter in the most adorable way possible. “And you.” She reluctantly hands him one.

“Thank you , Auntie.”He quickly unwraps it, taking a large bite that gets more than half of it.”Mmmmm. You have no idea how much I’ve missed these.”He manages with his mouthful. She heaves a sigh and hands him the other one as well. She may as well. She doesn’t really like taking those extra shots to balance her blood sugar.

“I missed you, Kiddo.”

“I missed you, too, Auntie Bree.” He pushes himself up to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“The syrup is all mine, though.” she takes a big breakfast. Ben just nods. He prefers his pancakes buttered anyways. With strawberry jam. “I asked for strawberry but they gave me grape. Oh look, there’s one strawberry jam in a buttload of grape jelly. I think I’ll steal all but one of their toilet paper rolls tonight.”

“Auntie…” he chides her, she just shrugs.

“So, how was the marines? Were you properly marinated? Meet any friendly prostitutes with new and interesting venereal diseases?”

“No. My celibacy got me a little ribbing but fortunately I had my pictures to show I had a girl worth waiting for.” Ben looks back at the two pictures taped to the head board. The latest christmas and karaoke pictures. Looking at the young woman in a gold and white chiton, somehow but covering and revealing her most provocative features as she rests on a red velvet lounge, Bree has to admit, the girl totally owns it and likely does anything she’s put in. Though she suspects the Christmas picture is Ben’s favorite.

You know this isn’t healthy, right?” Bree looks sadly at the pictures. “And I’m speaking as the Queen of unhealthy behaviors here. You don’t even know who she is now. You look at her and see the same pure innocent strong willed little girl you met seven years ago. Almost eight. And that little boy who had his first crush doesn’t exist anymore, either.” She puts a hand on his cheek. “You need to stop this fantasy and find someone real to love. You deserve better than a picture or two on your bedroom wall.”

“Do I?” He sounds cynically amused, something she definitely does not like to hear from her little Ben-Ben. “It doesn’t matter.” Ben just goes back to his food.

“You are a big romantic idiot. Do you know that?” Bree sighs. “Falling in love with a self made illusion is terrible for you, for them, and for anyone who cares about you. She’s not a goddess, she’s not redemption, and she has no interest in you at all anymore.” Bree puts a hand on his leg. “Trust me, I know. Even if you do somehow end up together you’re just going to hurt her and yourself when the bubble bursts.” She gives a deep sigh. “You know you’re going to be the death of me one day.”

“Yes, I’m sure my abstinence from sex, drugs, alcohol, gambling, and recreational violence are doing terrible things to your heart.” The reminder that he’s at least half smart ass rears its ugly head.

“No. You binding your powers away and joining the damn marines did terrible things to my heart. And my sleep and my appetite. I’ve been worried sick about you, kiddo, and all because your stubborn prideful rebellious phase, which isn’t exactly unexpected given your family tree. Do you even remember what happened to your father in iraq?”

“Yes. But I figured as long as you didn’t decide to save me too I’d be fine.” Ben almost instantly regrets it the moment he says it. Mostly from the surprised look on her face.

“Okay. Wow.” She looks away. “That’s… deserved. But still what the fuck Ben?”

“I’m sorry.” He winces.

“You know, you and your temper ever since you let it out of the box, which your mother absolutely deserved, it just keeps getting the better of you, just like your father. You have to find a way to get it under control before you do something even more stupid and counterproductive than you already have.” She scolds, but stops thinking she may have gone a bit too far herself, but he doesn’t seem to be paying attention.

“Did you know I got sick for the first time while I was in basic? It was a cold that turned into viral pneumonia just after it was over. Which is why I didn’t send you anything then. Apparently I said a lot of crazy things in my delirium. When I got well, Jeb told me I needed a shrink. As apparently I still have a lot of Mommy issues.”

“Well, duh.” She rolls her eyes. “You and your parents are all way too much alike. Stubborn, prideful, overly sensitive, self deprecating with a tendency towards the dramatic at times. There’s definitely a limit to how much advice and guidance you’ll take from others. I know it’s not that great for any of you, but I kind of like seeing your mom having no idea what she’s doing. I hate what her desperate floundering does to you, but you have to admit, there’s something nice about seeing an insufferable mr perfect know it all just so completely out of her depth.”

“Are you talking about my mother? My mother never seems in doubt, or unsure of anything.” Ben opens his big breakfast. “ I don’t know what I’m going to say to her. How do I go back home with a dishonorable discharge after leaving the way I did. How can I possibly defend my decisions when it ended this way? How do I admit I don’t know what I’m going and still say I should be in charge of my own life.” Ben’s little worry crinkles in his forehead just break her heart.

“I’m going to tell you a little secret, Ben. Nobody really knows what they’re doing. They may think they know what they’re doing, but it’s like the butterfly effect and every decision you make is like a butterfly. You can’t possibly know all the potential results to your actions. You should have gotten high honors and a fucking parade for what you did. But things went a different way. The dishonor in that discharge is theirs, not yours. I don’t know. Maybe...” Bree grits her teeth, hating to tell him to do what he absolutely needs right now. “Maybe you should talk about this with Harahel before your parents get back.”

“I’d love to, but I’m trying not to put him in that kind of position, between me and Mom again. I really just have to man up and go home, two houses down, talk to my parents, and accept the consequences.” Ben sits up, a decided look on his face.

“I wish I could have come home with honors, or any sort of alcollaides,” He continues. “Or at least old enough to drown my sorrows in a beer with my Uncle but this… who knows if I’ll even get a chance to explain myself. Not that I really want to.”

“You’ll get a chance. Just use those tongue holding skills you learned in basic whenever you get pissed off. And you’ll be fine.” Bree punches his shoulder. 

“They never actually pissed me off that much.” He confesses with a small smile.

“Ben.” there’s a brief knock on the door from the Sheriff. “Are you awake?

“Yes.” Ben straightens up as Bree hides behind the bed on the floor.

“I just wanted to let you know that there’s a soldier waiting on your parent’s doorstep.”

“What?” Ben climbs out of bed and goes to the door. “What do you mean there’s a… okay. I’ll, um, I’ll go let him in and stuff in a second.”

“I could invite him in here before I go to work.” The Sheriff offers.

“No. I.. I’ll take care of things.” Ben shakes his head. “Thank you for letting me stay and rest.” He gives his uncle a hug.

“Any time, Ben. Just take everything with you when you go.” He says pointedly, knowing damn well there the smell of Fast food came from.

“I will. Have a good day at work.” Ben replies and closes the door as his uncle nods and puts his sheriffs hat on. It just takes a quick snap of the fingers to set everything to rights. “Coming with me?” 

“Of course.” Bree stands up. “If anything I can help seriously lower the bar.” She grabs the fast food bag and follows her nephew down the stairs. “So I’m guessing you made some special friends on tour.” She comments as they near the soldier sitting on the stoop. He stops shuffling cards and look up towards the sound of them approaching his face lights up when he sees Ben. He bolts to his feet just as his smile fades.

“This is the wrong house, isn’t it?” He winces with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders.

“No.” Ben grins. “ It’s the right one. I just… wasn’t ready to face my parents yet so I was hiding at my uncle’s a few days.” He explains and greets the man with a firm handshake that Ben just uses to pull him into a proper hug. “What are you doing here, Jeb?”

“I’m here to back you up of course. I got discharged as well.”

“What? That wasn’t part of the deal.” Ben’s eyes flash as he backs away. “You…”

“Section *. A lot of us didn’t feel right about the whole thing and refused to lie on our reports. We told the truth and stuck by it. They decided to write it off as a mass hallucination to shut us up and discredit everything we said. All the better to shove a public relations nightmare under the rug, right?” Jeb makes a face.

“You didn’t… Jebediah Tulle did I or did I not tell you to keep your mouth shut and toe the company line on this one? You have family to take care of. How are you going to support your mother now?”

“Well, I guess I’m not. My sister can get up off her ass and get a job, for one. And I have almost enough to pay off the rest of the mortgage. They’ll be fine. I promise. Look, you saved me from doing something I could never have forgiven myself for. I’d have pulled the trigger Ben. I knew it was wrong but I’d have done it if you weren’t standing there in front of them. I’m not as strong as you. How can I go home knowing how weak I really am. What I would have done. Can you imagine if I had?”

“Ah, Jeb” Ben pats his cheek. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“No, I’m just a better stronger person when you’re around.” Jeb gives a bashful shrug.

“Awww.” Bree grins at them, only just being noticed by Jeb. “And how long have you two been together?”

“Since basic.” Ben replies. Jeb winces slightly.

“We were given the same tour because I’m pretty much useless without him.” Jeb jokes.

“Ben, I know groupies are fun, but seriously you need a better class of followers.” Ben shoots his aunt a dark look at this one. 

“Ignore her.” Ben opens the door and waves Jeb in after him. “My father’s off hunting with Aunt Jo for a few days. I’m not sure when he’ll get back. My mother is working, but I have no idea when she’ll be back either.”

“I remember you said she pretty much lives at the office.” Jeb looks around the house. “

Nice Place.” He says politely, though Ben knows it looks like more like a museum. Everything is fresh and clean and just like new, it just happens to be littered with things from the late twentieth century, though it’s mostly stuck in nineteen nineties suburbia.

“This was my grandmother’s house. She left it and the garage to my dad.”

“Oh.” Jeb sounds a little confused.

“The business, Winchester Garage. Not the garage to the house.”

“Oh, right.” Jeb laughs. “Yeah, because the garage-garage is usually considered a part of the house.” Bree just shakes her head. Hopefully this is the only one of Ben’s army buddies so infatuated with him. Or even just the only one who adores and worships him so blatantly. The last thing Ben needs is another sycophant puffing up whatever’s left of his ego. It’s something he gets from his mom and the last thing those two need is a battle of stubbornness and pride with fluffy sheilds of ego hiding their deep and potentially crippling insecurity complexes. Things might just go back to how bad it was when Ben was thirteen. Explosive arguments ending with both mother and son crying into their pillows about how much the other hates them.

Apparently the popular curse of ‘may you have a child exactly like you’ is an even more horrifically potent one that it seemed.

“What about your uncle? The one you were given the weird middle name for.” Jeb puts his duffel bag down by the stairs.

“Oh, is Jebediah Nebuchadnezzar Tulle judging someone else’s name?” Ben lightly shoves him as he heads into the kitchen.

“Nebucha…. This is what happens when you get christians that don’t actually read their bible.” Bree rolls her eyes. “She named you after some drug addled idiot twinkie whore king who got fucked into worshipping da... God by the most perfect human being ever created. “

“That’s not how mom told that story.” Jeb looks over at the short and sulky woman. “He was the king who saw the light and saved his kingdom by switching to christianity. And I was named after my great great uncle.” He defends himself if only for family loyalty. He hates his names. “We’re a religious family.”

“So’s ours.” Bree adds, trailing behind them as Ben checks the cupboards. “My name’s Gabrielle.”

“They… your family named you after the Devil?That’s like Scar’s parents naming him trash originally.” Jeb’s shock looks almost amusing.

“You think that’s bad? His mother is Helel Ben Sahar.” Bree grins at them. Ben slams the cupboard door and glares at her. “Guess who the favorite is.”

“I feel your pain, my brother’s name is John. He’s Mr. Perfect. A conscientious objecter despite our family’s military tradition and our mother’s years of service, that she suddenly has no problem it. Thought she’d be proud of me for enlisting, but nope. John got promoted and that’s what we celebrated the day before I shipped out. He got the toasts, I got raked over the coals for my barely adequate performance. Maybe he can support mom for a while.” Jeb informs Bree who will never admit that she relates as hard as she does. “It’s one thing Ben and I have in common, Mothers who are impossible to satisfy.”

“Welcome to the club.” Bree smacks his back as she passes him. “Not that either of you is in the same universe as the level of disappointment I was to my family.”

“We’re out of food. We’ll have to go grocery shopping. C’mon, I’ll take you to the spare room and we’ll head to the store afterwards.” Ben says before Jeb can ask her what exactly she did.

“You have a car?” Thankfully he’s easily distracted.

“I have a motorcycle that’s at dad’s garage, but it’s not exactly good for two people getting groceries regardless. My dad does, though. Hopefully he took his motorcycle and left the car here. Or went in Aunt Jo’s. Hold on.” Ben heads to the back door and opens it before remembering that his mother usually takes george with her when no one else would be home. But much to his delight, there’s a barrage of excited barks as the puppy catches sight of him and Ben is knocked to the ground by the ugliest looking thing Jeb has ever seen. It looks like a soul hound statue came to life bred with a corgi and had a puppy that was riddled with massive possibly benign tumors all over his entire body. He’s not sure if fur would makes it better or worse.

“OH MY GOD!” Jeb backs away as the dog covers Ben’s face with slobbery dog kisses and wags it’s tail. 

“How’s my little Georgie girl? I’ve missed you. Yes, I did. I missed my little Georgie porgy.”

“That… that…” Jeb stammers.

“Complete and utter abomination.” Bree finishes for him. “We know. Sweetest thing, though, and she smells like peppermint.”

“Ah, it doesn’t really look like something that would smell good.” Jeb eyes it warily, wishing he had a gun so he can shoot it before it turns on Ben and devour his soul.”Are you sure it’s safe?”

“She’s a girl and yes. Let me just go get her carrier.” Ben picks her up and gets to his feel. The little gnarly mound of tail wags at this. “Here, hold her.” He hands her to Jeb.

“You’ll get used to it.” Bree whispers as Jeb just stares at the happy smiling tail wagging puppy of hideousness. He’d follow Ben Winchester to hell and back but he just can’t help but think this maybe this is what he might expect to find down there. He gives thanks that it’s at least seven years old because if this thing was actually a puppy, the cutest any dog will ever be, is terrifying.

“Holy shit, she does smell like peppermint.” Jeb exclaims as George escapes his grip and jumps on his face to kiss him as well. “And… cotton candy?”

“I know right? That’s from my sister feeding him.” Ben takes out a baby carrier from the closet and slips it on before rescuing Jeb.

“I’ll stay behind and keep a look out for your parents.” Bree plops down on the living room couch as the two head towards the garage. 

“You can tell them I’m home.” Ben says quietly and closes the door behind them.

Jeb can’t help but look over at the happy little tumor hound still snuggly wrapped in a silk blanket tucked into the carrier and an adorable blue and white sunbonnet over her head. She’s just blissfully panting away, smiling a doggy smile so wide her eyes are shut. Apparently she has sensitive skin which burns really easily in the sunlight, which one would expect from a creature like that.

“What on earth? Ben frowns as there are a couple rental cars in the driveway and in front of the house. 

“Well, see, a few of us came out to see you.” Jeb confesses. “I just got here first.”

“Oh,” Ben pulls the wagon into the driveway beside one of the rentals. “I should have had you buy some beer.”

“They probably brought their own.”Jeb gets out and they each take two armfuls of bags into the kitchen. Sure enough there are several cases of beer on the kitchen table. The normal chatter broken up by some laughter and cooing noises is coming from the living room. Ben feels a cold chill run down his spine and not the helpful kind.

“Oh, I have to show you the holiday albums.” He hears his Aunt declare. Nooooooooo.

“No, you don’t!” He threatens, though he knows it won’t do any good, and heads into the living room.

“Yes, I absolutely do.” She pulls it off the shelf. Randy and Jax give him shit eating grins, letting him know that he is never going to live this down as long as he lives. That bastard Ted just takes a damn picture of him with George all bundled up in the baby carrier.

“So what the hell are you assholes doing here?” Ben sits on the arm of the couch. 

“Heard you were going home.” Jax lifts her beer. “Not about to let you head into a dangerous situation all on your own.”

“Plus we wanted to pry into your personal life and meet the woman who’s the only thing you fear.”

“I’m not afraid of my mother.”Ben lies, taking the sleepy George out of the carrier.

“OH MY GOD!” is heard over a few shrieks and curses.

“Jesus fucking christ!” comes when the hellpup shakes off the sunbonnet and looks around at them. “What the hell is that?!”

“It’s my dog, George. “ Ben scratches behind the nightmare flaps that must be her ears. There’s dead silence. Bree is just appreciating her nephews sense of humor. It’s alot like his uncle’s. 

“Dude… are you sure that’s a dog?” Marie eyes it suspiciously.”That is… that… what the hell man?”

“I told you she wasn’t very photogenic, didn’t I?” Ben shrugs. George stays happily by his feet as he goes to put things away. 

“She’s very friendly and she smells like peppermint. And kind of has cotton candy breath.” Jeb volunteers loyally.

“That’s her?” Ted looks over a bit surprised. “I thought you were chewing gum or something.”

“Yes, that’s her.” Ben nods proudly.

“What does she eat?” Ted leans over to look at her.

“Human souls.”

“That would be funnier if she wasn’t so goddamn hideous, Winchester.” Jax brushes her hair back and lets out a breath.

“Here’s the album!” Bree breaks the tension. 

“Please tell me he had an awkward phase.” Randy leans over to look at the pictures, then starts laughing. “I want copies of these.” He takes the album from Bree and turns it around to show Baby Ben in a bumble bee costume, chomping on the head of a stuffed bear almost as big as he is. He even has little bumble bee socks on his little chubby baby feet.  
“Ah, wook at our whittle Benny Wenny defending da hive.” Jax tickets the baby’s chin. Ben just sighs and endures as they flip through the never ending portraits of Ben in costume, through the never ending portraits of Ben in costume throughout the years. Every single time Harahel found a cute costume he would copy it and make Ben wear it. And he insisted on dressing him up for ALL the holidays. A turkey or a pilgrim for thanksgiving. An elf,rudolph, or a gingerbread man for Christmas. He was a present one year. He was the baby for New years until his mother returned and put a stop to it. He was a cupid for valentine’s day as well, A bunny for easter or a chick. Firecrackers or Uncle Sam for fourth of july. His favorites were memorial day and veteran’s day where he dressed up in little copies of his father’s uniform. Occaisionally Harahel fell in love with pastel princess and fairy costumes, even a blue and white bo-peep costume one time which Ben wishes he hadn’t so successfully feigned enthusiasm for.

“Look familiar?” Bree points at the bonnet. So now every one of his brothers in arms knows that not only did he look absolutely beautiful at age eight, but that he kept it long enough to use on George for sun protection. He couldn’t get rid of it after telling Harahel how wonderful it was.

“You bastard.” Ted scowls at him.

“What?” Ben looks up from his seat on the floor. George is in his lap, belly up, not quite snoring.

“You couldn’t have at least gotten acne?” Marie lightly kicks his shoulder.

“Sorry.” Ben apologizes glibly. “Thank you all for coming here, invading my privacy, mocking my childhood, and insulting my dog. At least tell me they put you on leave and did not throw away your career like Jeb did after I specifically did this to save you from this.” Ben puts an arm around his buddy’s shoulder. They all look a bit guilty.

“I’m on leave.” Jaz confesses, raising her hand. “I’m sorry, but I need the insurance and housing for my wife.”

“And my dad,” Ted confesses. “Thank you, if I can ever do anything else.” He offers weekly.

“Yeah, no, I’m glad.” Ben smiles at them warmly. “Why do you think I made the deal?”

“Yeah, we all understand, you guys.” Marie gently elbows Ted. “I just… let’s face it. I joined for honor and glory and family tradition and there was nothing honorable or glorious about what we almost did. And if it’s at all traditional, then fuck tradition.”

“I have to believe this is one off thing. I have to believe that we’re the good guys. You know, there’s honor and goodness and morality in the corps and I’m not giving up on it. Next time, I’ll do better. I won’t hesitate to speak up.” Randy takes a breath. “I won’t let you down again, Ben.”

“You didn’t. None of you did.”

“Ben,” They look to the kitchen door as a tall gorgeous woman with a few stripes of white in her long brown hair is standing there. She has Ben’s ice blue eyes. “You should have told me you were coming home with friends. I’d have prepared something.”

“Yes, mom.”He puts George in Jebs lap and gets bravely to his feet. “You were right.” He says softly looking down at his feet. “I’m sorry.” His mother just walks over and embraces him.

“I’m so glad you’re home.” Much to his surprise, she just holds ont him tightly. At first he’s not sure she’s not just playing the perfect mother, but he catches a crystal tear that rolls down his chest before it can drop to the floor and raise questions. “Thank God you’re alright.”


	5. The Need For SelfCare

Chapter 5 The Need for Self Care

“You know.” Tris comments as Abigail steps out from nothing into the room. “You can take a break every now and then.”

“I’m over seeing a massive restructuring and renovation. It’s better if I don’t.” Abigail heads directly to the bathroom. “If you give me a minute to shower we could go out for a walk or something.”

“There’s a new vampire nest at the edge of the city.”Tris informs her. “So, it’s probably not a good idea to wax.”

“ Oh.” Abigail sighs. “Do you want to go take them out? There are a few new spells I could try out.” 

“We could try and enlist them into your cousin’s army first, right?” Tris glances at the bathroom, then walks out to get the air freshener and vacuum cleaner. The scent of sulfur must be quickly and viciously attacked or it gets into everything. 

To be honest, Tris is considering asking Abigail to just return from hell directly into the bath tub. Unfortunately Tris loves to take hot baths in there when she has the apartment to herself. Low music, unlit incense sticks, a nice hot bath she can actually lie down in. More than one person could easily fit in there easily, but she doesn’t exactly want Abigail showing up suddenly, reeking of Fire and Brimstone. They’re not that close.

“We could, but let’s be honest, when does that ever do anything but put us at a disadvantage?” Abigail’s annoyed voice is very cold today. It’s also inappropriate because Abigail’s the one who pushed her cousin to start recruiting purgatory bound souls before death. She told her to take responsibility for the souls that’ll be going to her designated Queendom. But then again, Abigail does sound exhausted.

“I forget it’s not really as fun for you as it is for me.” Tris laughs,” I just want to give them a chance before it starts.”

“You’re getting thirsty again, aren’t you?”

“Well, I mean, I’m always thirsty.” Tris heads to the kitchen. “I’m just starting to get a little tired too. And maybe a little weak. It makes it a lot harder.”

“Alright,” Abigail takes a breath. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll call Shelly and ask her to go with you after she puts Bruce to bed or something, and I’ll just have a night in.” She gives a defeated sigh and leans her head back into the water.

“Thinking or ordering in tonight?” The suggestive question is ignored. So the answer is yes. “I’ll make sure we don’t interrupt.”

“Thank you.” A small radio turns on. Tris goes and plops down on the recliner, grateful beyond grateful for the baby soft leather and perfect memory foam cushioning. The money Abigail’s uncle left her helped them make the perfect low sensory apartment. There are special panels on the wall to absorb sound. All the materials used for anything and everything are the finest, most sensuous she could find. It makes this place a sanctuary that’s relaxing and pleasant in almost every way but smell. It’s not that she hasn’t gotten used to the general noises and odors of existence. She has, more than she thought she would, but sometimes it’s just nice to have a break. 

But not tonight, seeing as someone’s knocking at the apartment door. She knows it’s not Shelly. Shelly just barges in like she owns the place and that’s if she even bother’s to use the door.

“Hold on!” Tris shouts and ambles over to the door, taking a big sniff of the air. “Hmm, old leather, motor oil… ooooo, it’s the pretty one.”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Though he sounds like he’s probably smiling.

“Well, if it isn’t the reason I regret being turned at sixteen.” Tris opens the door.

“Eternally sixteen.” Dean shudders at the thought, “Well, it could have been worse.” He reaches down and pats the shoulder of the little red head beside him. 

“Oh, Jesus!” Tris steps back. “I am never going to get used to this.” She covers her face. Bruce just gives her wide sunny smile. His mother somehow managed to weave some sort of little magical cocoon around him that absorbs his scent, and non vocalized sounds whenever there are supernatural creatures in range. “Sorry, kid. I’ll tone down the flirting.”

“He says worse.” Bruce runs inside. “Auntie Abby! Hey! Guess what!?” he goes into the bathroom.

“Seeing as you’re invading my personal space right now, I can only guess you want me to slap your face off.”

“No! I beat up the Newman boys! I was waiting on the porch swing for my moms to be ready and they came up and started throwing little rocks at me for telling Grandpa on them, but one hit Mom Alice and it’s always okay to protect people, so I beat them and broke all their bones!” Bruce informs her and leaves the bathroom.

“Just seven total.” An arm, a leg, a collar bone and four ribs. I’m not sure which was on which.” Dean explains with a proud smile. “I don’t think they’ll be picking on him again any time soon.”

“Anyways, can I play with your jewelry?” Bruce leans back in the bathroom doorway.

“Yes, but don’t touch my makeup.” Abigail replies.

“Thank you!” Bruce closes the door behind him and runs over to Abigail’s vanity. 

“Weren’t you just asking me how to be more manly?” Dean teases him.

“This is a safe space, Grunkle Dean. I can do what I like now and nobody will make fun or me or take away my man card. Right, Aunt Tris?”He looks back at the vampire, who nods.

“Would you like me to paint your nails?” Tris offers. “In the kitchen, of course.”

“Just my toes so I don’t get made fun of back in the sanctuary.” Bruce says practically. 

“Sure. I’ll give you a little pedicure.” Tris promises.

“Well, maybe clear nail polish on my fingers. Can Grunkle Dean have one too?”

“Yeah, let’s give Grunkle Dean a basic mani pedi, too!”  
“And can we use your makeup?”

“YES! I would love to glam you two up.” Tris scoops up the boy and takes him out of the bedroom.

“Wait, we need robes and stuff. C’mon Grunkle Dean, we have to change so we don’t mess up our clothes.” Bruce squirms down and pulls his uncle into Abigail’s bedroom.

  
  


“I have to admit that’s probably the closest shave I’ve ever had.” Dean rubs his jaw. “And without a single nick, too. Nice.”

“Thank little Miss Bollywood over there for the many dramatic scenes performed whenever I did.” Abigail patiently applies the foundation. Tris just grins. “Apparently the cure to blood thirst is intense overacting.”

“Oh shut up and you’re not the right shade of brown to call me little Miss Bollywood.” Tris elbows her a little.

“I’ll get right on that as soon as you stop threatening to send me to Xibalba If I’m an hour late with your paycheck.” Abigail elbows her back.

“I keep telling you to just set up direct deposit and we wouldn’t have this issue.”

“I gotta tell you, girls, women, ladies?” Dean corrects himself as they both give him an irritated look. “I’m still not entirely comfortable with the roommate situation.”

“You’re not comfortable?” Tris exclaims. “How do you think I feel when she gets her period?”

“Once a year!” Abigail points out. Thank god for birth control. “Do I have to mention what comes out of you?”

“We promised never to talk about that.” Tris glares at her. “And you don’t have to spray that stupid vampire repellant on your undies. I’m not a lesbian and I will never be that desperate.”

“Why would…” Bruch starts to ask, but gets his mouth covered.

“Forget I said anything.” Tris kisses his nose when he nods. “Good boy.”

“How come we can’t call you girls but you can call us boys?” Bruce asks.

“The same reason you can’t call your mother by her first name.” Abigail replies.

“Ah. Power.” Bruce nods solemnly. “Did you smudge my lipstick?”

“Mmmm, not really. Hold on.” Tris gets the lip liner and evens it out a little. “There we go. Damn you boys are glam. Let’s get pictures.” she goes to get her phone.

“Can we send my moms a picture?” He looks up at Dean.

“Sure, kid.” Dean pulls his phone out of the pocket of the silk cherry blossom robe. “Up here, Bruce aaaand Blue Steel!”

“That reminds me.” Abigail starts putting makeup away. “You two. I assume you’re here for some other reason than to tell me about Bruce’s first fight and have a little glam session in my best robes.”

“Oh Yeah!” Bruce straightens up. “We’re going to Disney Land World Place Thingy!

“You and Uncle Dean? That sounds like fun.” Abigail sounds almost happy and cheerful which means she’s going to be a pain in the ass tomorrow. She always gets extra pissy if she goes for too long without getting some strange.

“And You too!” Bruce informs her excitedly. “You get to come with us, too. We’re going in the Holy Relic.”

“Dude!” Dean looks down at him a little hurt.

“It is a relic Grunkle Dean. It’s almost a hundred years old. And it’s a Holy Relic because it helped you and Grandpa to stop the apocalypse.”

“It is not almost a hundred years old. It’s like… ten or twenty something years older than me.”

“Yeah but you’re just a relic because you never let Grunkle Michael use you as a vessel. Even though you don’t look like it.”

“That’s ‘Legend’, kid.” Dean corrects him.

“No, Grandma said you and your car are both relics from a more dangerous, uncivilized time and Grandma’s the best when it comes to words.” Bruce says matter of factly before turning back to Abigail. Tris tries not to laugh. “But we get to ride in it and stop at hotels and swim in the pools and eat at Biggeresons every day and everything. And you can sit in back with me and read me stories and play Mario Kart with me.”

“I, ah, I’ll have to check my schedule.” Abigail hedges, cursing Shelly for telling her son that she’d go. “You’re not going with your mothers?”

“No. Mom’s going on a recruitment drive and Mom Alice is taking care of the boys I beat up while they’re mom’s at work.” Bruce’s statement takes Abigail by surprise.

“She’s what?”

“We’ll talk about it later.” Dean speaks up. “It’s fine, kid. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know it wasn’t wrong. But doing the right thing is supposed to make you feel good, isn’t it? And I’m kind of starting to feel bad. So what does that mean?” He looks up to his Grunkle Dean hoping for a good answer.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, kid, but it’s not that simple.” Dean puts an arms around his grand nephews shoulder. “Sometimes a lot more than you’d think, doing the right thing. Is hard and painful and hurts. Sometimes it’s not even about right or wrong. It’s about what you have to do. Maybe you went a bit overboard, but you’re young and still developing self control.”

“I mean, personally,” He continues. “I think they had it coming. Those brats have been picking on you for a while not. Why don’t I teach you some purely defensive stuff so you can subdue someone without too much damage. How’s that sound?”

“A little better.”

“Alright.” Dean pats his back. “We’ve taken pictures now so let’s go wash this stuff off so we don’t get pimples and shit.”

“Can we wait until we get a hotel room?”

“Sure, kid, but the jewelry stays.”

“You don’t need to find a hotel. The two of you can stay in the guest room.” Abigail says firmly, much to Tris’ dismay. She’s not going to be pleasant in the morning. “But definitely clean yourselves up because it’s time for you to go to bed little man.” She takes hold of Bruce’s nose. “Past time.”

“Aww, okay.” Bruce lets his Grunkle take him to the bathroom to clean up.

“He’s so cute.” Tris squeaks.

“Which one?” Abigail puts her makeup away.

“Oh, hush.”

“I did have plans tonight, but I’m not making Bruce sleep in a cheap motel.” Abigail sounds twice as irritated as she looks. “I thought I made it clean to everyone that I do not like Surprise visits.”

“Well, you could always go to a cheap motel.” Tris suggests, “A change of scenery now and then might do you good. Just don’t wake me up tomorrow for any reason or I will bind, gag, and tranq you for the day.”

“Are you going to do something that will piss me off enough to wake you during the day again?” Abgails cold question indicates she’s completely lost her sense of humor. “And I’m not going to a motel, cheap or otherwise. Thank you. Neither I or my date would really appreciate that. And I want to get my money’s worth, which is why I pay for premium prices in the first place. I don’t have enough budgeted for a decent hotel today, so it’s fine. I can put if off for a few says.” This just gets a snort from Tris. “Excuse you?”

“Excuse You! You are one of the few people who absolutely does desperately need to get laid on a regular basis or you become unbearable. And you are really pushing it this week.” Tris goes back to drinking her coconut water.

“I can’t believe you just said that.” Abigail puts a hand to her chest, like the prim maiden aunt she absolutely isn’t.

“I love you, Abs, but if your only means of rest and relaxation is getting some, then you’d better get it consistently because you are an icy bitch when over stressed.”

“Tris. There is a seven year old boy in this apartment. You need to stop talking about my love life for a while.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” Tris teases because she just can’t help it. “Do you have a favorite then?”

“Will you STOP!” Abigail goes over to toss the boy’s clothes out to the hall and slams the door shut.”

“No! You’re working so hard for everyone all the time and you won’t even take care of yourself in the halfass way you’re willing to do. It’s going to break you Abigail. It is breaking you and not just here.” Tris reaches out to poke her friends forehead. “But here, too.” She taps the heart chakra. “I love you, Abs, and yeah I want to be human again. But not if it ends up destroying my best friend.”

“Stop being so overdramatic.”

“I’m not sure I am. Who are you, Abigail? How many hats? What are you doing? How many projects?” Tris asks, clearly not needing an answer. “How old are you now, Abigail?”

“Old enough to run my own life and make my own decisions.” Abigail snaps back. “I have responsibilities, Tris. Big ones. And even if I literally work myself to death, it doesn’t matter because nothing will actually change.”

“Nothing….”Tris just gapes at her. “Alright, little girl, you listen to me. We are not discussing this right now because I have so much to say about this that’s not appropriate for the ears of the gentler sex. So I’m just going to say this. Go out. Find a cheap bar. Find a cheap man and take him to a cheap motel and you relax yourself until you pass the fuck out, or I swear I will beak into the nearest blood bank and get this over with for once and for all becaus eI’m not going to be the reason you dive headlong into the dark side, okay?” Tris storms to Abigail’s walk in closet and rips out some jeans, one of several black lace teddies, and a denim overshirt. “Here. Happy hunting.” She shoves them into Abigail’s arms.

“Tris.” Abigail tries to protest, but the look in her friend’s eyes is one of sheer desperation. “Fine.” She relents.

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll go sift through the bargain bin and if I find something worth having, I’ll have it. That’s a big ‘if’ you know.”

“I know. And no drinking?”

“No, I don’t combine the two. You know, you could go do this yourself some time.” Abigail snaps. “I’m starting to think you’re living vicariously through me.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t. I need to stay in full control of myself. My love bites could get a little out of hand.” Tris shrugs, pretending she doesn’t care. Abigail’s just quiet for a good few minutes.

“There are always the converts to Shelly’s army.” She suggests.

“I don’t have time for romantic entanglements, you know that. And they’ll all just so emo if they’re even a remote possibility. And I don’t think I can separate the two the way you do.” Tris confesses. “Maybe one day, I dunno. Eventually, but you should understand I have too much going on in my life to even want to look.”

“Okay.” Abigail doesn’t press it because she never presses things Tris doesn’t want her too. It’s this annoying gift she has. Who knows one day she’ll develop her mother’s gift of knowing when to keep pressing anyways. “Tell Uncle Dean goodnight for me.”

“I can put him to bed for you, too.” Tris leers.

“You’d have to take that up with Uncle Cas.”


	6. A Wonderful Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and his comrades present his defense to the Viceroy of Heaven  
> Bree gives her nephew what she hopes is a get out of jail free card with Abigail.  
> Abigail gives Ben a much friendlier greeting than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I voted yesterday. Yay! Now to wait a week to see if this nightmare will end or not.  
> Today is my birthday. What I want for my birthday are comments and questions and prayers from my non-american readers.  
> criticisms welcome. I ate a fresh hot delivery pizza for breakfast and am looking forwards to an afternoon/evening of writing and watching movies.

Chapter 6 A Wonderful Gift

“See, the thing is… you can never know. Not really.” Ben tries to explain, sitting at his exhausted mother’s feet. “They’ll use kids as bombs and decoys. Anyone can be an insurgent no matter what gender or age. You can’t tell just by looking. It’s easy to get confused and paranoid.”

“Don’t make excuses for us, little guy.” Randy puts a hand on his head. “You weren’t confused. We had not more or less reason to follow orders than you did. Just…. Mrs. Winchester.” He looks up at the woman, sitting at attention like a judge awaiting testimony. Despite the fact that she almost couldn’t get to the chair without help, she does look incredibly intimidating. “Nobody thinks of themselves as the kind of person who’d participate in a massacre. We all think we’d be the one strong enough, sure enough to stand up and say no at the very least. Try to stop it.”

“But the only one who was.” Jex finishes since Randy can’t. “Was your son. He outright refused, not just to stand in line and raise his gun, but he walked over and stood in fromt of them, then said as loud as you please, ‘This is wrong.’”

The truth is Ben didn’t say it exactly like that. He lost his temper and there was a lot more cursing and most of it was directed at the sergeant. He asked if they were all out of their fucking minds. He called her a coward, and a terrorist in fatigues for even thinking this up in the first place. She did not take it well, though it seemed to make everyone else take a step back.. She actually shot him., but one of the little boys he was guarding pulled his right arm hard enough that the bullet only got his upper left arm, ripping through the binding tattoo. That’s when Ben reacted completely on instinct.

“And?” His mother coaxes gently as they seem to be reluctant to finish the story.

“You can tell her.” Ben says quietly. “She’ll believe you.”

“Sergeant Messing shot him. That.. that was all it took for a lot of us. Most of us. We took the guns away from those who would still have shot. Someone shot the sergeant but we never knew exactly who it was. “

“I thought she’d killed Ben.” Jeb doesn’t exactly confess. “But at the first few gunshots there was this light and all our guns got red hot so we had to drop them. And Ben, his arm was just covered in this shining crystal stuff. Behind him was what had to be an angel, though all I could see was it’s enormous wings. The shiny stuff on his arm melted away and he was fine and we were all fine and the people behind him, the old, injured, starved and bruised were all perfectly well.”

“It was a miracle.” They insist, but Helel just cooly looks down at her son, who looks down and away. Of all the things there are to say about the event, calling it a miracle is not one of them. Ben does not look forwards to the conversation.

“Tell them the truth, Ben.” Is what his mother says instead, which is the last thing he expected her to say.

“What?” He looks back up at her.

“They’re your friends aren’t they? They put themselves and their careers on the line for you, Ben. I think they deserve the truth. Don’t you?” She looks him straight in the eye. Ben turns pale, his mouth open, unable to speak. “Well, then. I’ll tell them.” she shifts a little to better face the rest of them.

“That wasn’t an angel you saw. That was just Ben. He’s a nephilim, half angel, half human and this foolish child bound his powers with that tattoo on his upper arm and joined the marines despite strict orders not to. Now if you’ll excuse me, my son has killed human beings. I have to go convince my brethren that he should not be destroyed.” She vanishes. Ben knows she’s just slipped into the ether and will call an angel to take her back to the ‘office’.

“W-what the fuck?” Some one stammers.

“Your mother is actually Helel Ben Sahar?” Jeb exclaims then slowly looks over to Ben’s Aunt Bree, his eyes wide as plates. She just winks at him and smacks him a kiss.

“I’m sorry.” Is all Ben can think to say. George, deciding her master needs come love, climbs up on his chest to slobber on him, letting him pick up and cuddle her instead.

“Did… did she just say heaven wants to destroy you?” Marie straightens up. 

“Nah. Helel’s just being over dramatic, as always.” Bree shakes her head. “She’s not going to kill her son and as she is ruling heaven, it’s not exactly an issue. She just has to make sure that everyone else is on the same page and doesn’t try to take some ‘initiative’ since Nephilim are stupidly classified as ‘monsters’.”

“You…” Jeb gapes at he, though no one else is entirely sure why.

“I’m on probation, with my angel license taken away so relax. I can’t cause any more trouble than any normal human being now. Besides, I’m like, reforming, or whatever.”

“What are you talking about?” Jax frowns at her.

“Hi, I’m Gabrielle, also known as the Devil, the Nightingale, temptress of saints and sinners alike? But I’ve been forced into retirement and I was never actually trying to corrupt or destroy humanity or whatever they said. I was just trying to have fun and help other people have fun. Nobody could ever take a joke though.” Bree keeps looking at the pictures. “Oh, look, this is my favorite.” She holds up a little picture of Ben at two, with white robes, a halo and little wings, his fingers in his mouth. “That’s him playing his mommy at the nativity scene for the Sheriff’s church.”

“So… you have wings.” Jex pushes Ben forwards by the back of his head and pats down his back with her free hand.

“They’re not usually corporeal,” Ben says quietly.”They’re in the ether, behind the veil. And no I won’t manifest them. There’s not enough room.”

“Jesus! No wonder you have mommy issues.”Marie takes out a cigarette. “May I have a light?” She searches her pockets.

“Here.” Ben snaps it lit.

“Shit.” She almost drops it. “ I mean, nice. What else can you do?” She scoots closer to the edge of the love seat.

“So…. you could have turned our MRE’s into something edible?” Randy eyes him suspiciously. Ben just nods. “You Mother Fucker!” He beans him with a throw pillow. “Why would you seal away your awesome powers? You could have done so much more…”

“I was going to have to kill humans and I couldn’t let myself be exposed. I’m not that good with my abilities and don’t have the best control when I try to do things under stress. Pretty much all of my childhood was about keeping me from using them. I mean, can you imagine an infant with almost absolute powers? Most Nephilim grow into them, but my mother’s not a regular angel. She’s an archangel. So I’m a lot more powerful.

“I didn’t even start to break the resulting mental chains until I was thirteen and screwed things up so badly that it kind of sent me back to refusing to even try to use them until my dad got hurt during a hunt. I’ve gotten a hand on little things, like healing, flying and creating a few things. I’m good at making snowdrops.” Ben closes his fist and opens it to reveal a small plant starting to grow, entwining it’s roots around his hand and fingers. In a moment, a beautiful bunch of snowdrops standing on his palm.

“You forgot a pot and soil again.” Bree points out.

“Oh, right.” Ben looks at it.

“You’re concentrating too hard on the minutiae. Just know what you want and snap. You already know the vibrations, just let your unconscious mind do the work.” Bree chides him. “Think of what you want and snap.” She snaps her fingers. Ben snaps his and not only are the flowers off his hand, but they’re in a decent sized dirt filled pots that his aunt’s holding.

“Anyways. Even with what I can do.. It had to be fair. I know it was war but it had to be fair.” Ben just looks down at his lap where George is now laying across both his and Jeb’s legs somehow.

“Well, that is a very you thing to do, no doubt about it.” Ted finally says something. “And it’s not like it kept you from saving our asses as it was.”

“No wonder you’re scared of your mom, though. Human mother’s are scary enough.”

“You’re not angry with me?” Ben looks up at them with that anxious pout no one can

seem to resist. How the hell can such a behemoth look so damn small and helples?

“What for?” Jax asks before she can melt into a puddle of squee.

“For lying to you? For not ... being all I could be?” He looks back down at his feet.

“What… no. Not really. I mean, I would have thought you’d gone looney toons, if you’d said anything like this. Anyone who says differently is a liar.” Jax looks pointedly at Jeb who looks about to protest. “A liar.”

“Yeah, I’d have sent you for evaluation or something. I mean, we love you kid, but I don’t need a man with a god complex out there with me.” Randy pats Ben’s head again.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’f be rushing to tell anyone anything, if it were me. Of course, I wouldn’t have been rushing to give up god like powers to hop in a foxhole with a bunch of yahoos I didn’t know, either.” Ted confesses, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I know, you’re a son of a marine, raised on marine stories, marine traditions. You guys are a weird bunch to begin with.”

“Hey!” Jeb protests.

“That was true, right?” Marie asks a bit reluctantly. “Your dad being a marine.” 

“Yes.” Ben sighs. “Everything I told you about my family was true, though it gets complicated. Especially my mother dying in childbirth. It took seven years for them to get her back, not seven years in a coma after resuscitation. Though, honestly, it was pretty much the same thing given the circumstance. I don’t really want to talk about that, though.” He shrugs.

“Is that why she’s so unsteady? Is she still recovering or something?”

“No. She saved one of my uncles and got severely injured. She was only just able to move about before I left for the army. That’s actually why I was able to get away with it.”Ben feels guilty just saying it. “Dad did tell me a lot about his time in the marines when he took me hunting after I turned thirteen. He joined at eighteen, too, because of nine eleven. He made first sergeant by the time he was twenty six. And here I am.” They graciously ignore the bitterness in his voice at the last sentence.

“Hunting? You don’t seem like the kind of person to go killing animals. Especially since you were going vegan when you started. Or was that why?” Jax frowns.

“NO, I mean… remember that care package my dad managed to get to me? With that tabletop rpg, Hunters? That kind of hunting.” He rubs the back of his neck as they all stare at him. “Yeah, all that stuff is real. That’s what I hunted with my dad. Of course, I have a pretty distinct appearance. So I had to change my eyes and hair color most of the time.” Ben runs his fingers through his snow white hair.

“How?”

‘Oh, just this.” Ben runs his fingers through his hair again, both hands this time and changes it to his fathers multi-hued shade of brown. “ My eyes, too. Too many people would remember them.”

“Oooo, make them green.” Marie suggests. He blinks his eyes and they’re a nice darkish green.

“Can you change other people’s hair color?” Jax bends over. “ I always wanted to be a redhead.” She confesses.

“ I can do more than that.” Ben grins and snaps her into a clowns suit with a curly red 

clowns wig. 

“Ha,ha,ha very funny, Winchester.” She rips off the wig and smacks him with it, as the other laugh their asses off. She doesn’t notice the flattering shade of copper her formerly black hair is now. “Oh, hey, when are we going to meet your girlfriend? She exists, right?”

“Yes and no, and she’s not my girlfriend.” Ben responds a little tired of having to say it. “She only exists in a different thread or reality. One that I don’t. And the last time I saw her she made it clear she never wanted to see or hear from me ever again.”

“I doubt she meant it.” Ted reassured him. 

“Especially since you were… holy shit.” Randy takes a picture from Bree and turns it around. “This hot at thirteen.”

“What do you mean a different thread of reality?” Jeb tries to change the subject.

“An alternate reality. That’s where’s my sister’s from. Abigail’s actually her cousin. Celestially, not genetically. And she’s just human. As are my younger siblings, the twins. It’s complicated.”

“Oh, that reminds me.” Bree gets up and digs deep into her pocket, taking out a small micro disk in a little plastic baggie. “Alex and I have been working on a little something these past seven years and I present to you, the key to Abigail’s good graces.” She walks over and hands it to him. “Happy Everything this year. This is a long but slow cure for vampirism for when a person gets turned by blood from multiple vampires. But, its still a cure. Seeing as you’re giving her the means to cure her best friend, I think she’ll be willing to forgive you.” She smiles proudly at him, hands on her hips knowing just what an enormous thing she has accomplished.

“Is this… Is this really…”Ben stares at it.

“I’d only do this sort of thing for you, kiddo.” She tweaks his nose. “Yeah, it’s real. Just ask Alex. She’s downing cheeseburgers and ice cream right now I think.”

“Oh, Auntie” Ben lifts her up as he gets to his feet, squeezing her in a crushing hug along with a big smooch on her cheek. “Thank you!” He spins her around and puts her back down before taking off to the garage. When he gets there, he pauses and heads back to the living room. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I can do that tomorrow.”

“What are you kidding?” Randy laughs. “No. Go get your girl, Romeo.”

“Yeah! No, get out of here.” Marie waves him off.

“Go on, we’ll stay here and regale your mother with more takes of Private Ben and his heroic endeavors when she returns.” Ted gives him a thumbs up.

“I’ll tell her about basic.” Jeb volunteers.

“I.. uh, I don’t think any of that will help my situation, but you’ve sacrificed enough so you’ve earned the right to humiliate me a little. Not that it ever stopped you before.” Ben shakes his head. “Aunt Bree, be good, please.”

“As good as I can be.” Her chipper tone makes him worry.

“Go on. We can handle her.” Ted gives Ben a thumbs up. Ben feels even more worried and still doesn’t move.

“I’ll be good. I promise.” Bree gently pushes him. “Would it make you feel better if I call down Harahel?” She wrinkles her nose disgusted at the offer she’s making.

“No, that’s alright. I’ll be back shortly.” Ben slowly walks towards the garage again.

“GO!” The group yells at him. Ben just blushes slightly and disappears.

“Did he just cross into another dimension?” Jeb looks where Ben was standing as George gives a little whine before settling into Jeb’s lap again.

“No, he went to the bunker to create a portal to another thread of existence. It’s honestly kind of sad. You always think your first love is so perfect.” She shakes her head. “For his sake, I kind of hope she is.”

It takes a moment, but he can see her sitting at the corner of the bar, glancing out over the floor. This doesn’t seem like the type of place she’d go to. It’s not seedy, but it’s not exactly nice. If course, drinking isn’t exactly something he can imagine her doing either. Maybe some wine with dinner. If course the food here doesn’t seem like something she’d eat either.

Maybe she’s waiting for someone. He shouldn’t interrupt. Maybe he could give it to Shelly instead. Have her give it to Abigail. What if she doesn’t even listen to him long enough to give it to her. What if she’s still too angry with me? What if she hasn’t and never will forgive him as long as he lives? What if she outright hates him?

“Hey, you buying a drink or just standing there taking up space?” The bartender raps his knuckles on the counter in front of her.

“Oh, um, tom collins please.” He sits down on the nearest stool. “I’m a few months shy.” He explains.

“Alright. Tom collins it is.” She smiles at him and goes back to prepare it. “Meeting someone?”

“Not exactly.” He looks back over to Abigail. He can see black lace under a denim   
Overshirt. When she turns her head and catches sight of him, he freezes. Though when she smiles at him he melts and smiles back. She’s even more beautiful in person. And she’s walking towards him. Does she recognize him? She looks happy to see him.

“Hi.” Is all he can manage to say as she leans against the counter next to him. 

“Are you waiting for someone?” She asks.

“No. I mean,well, you. I guess, really.” He stammers.

“There’s a hotel across the street. Finish your drink and meet me there.” She takes a room key from her breast pocket and slips it into the one in his jeans. “Room Twelve.”

“Okay.” He watches her go back to her table, leave a tip and walk out. She’s right, they probably shouldn’t be talking about this stuff in public. Ben downs his drink and pays for it with a generous tip as well before heading out. There are a few oddly hostile looks from some of the other patrons at the bar. Though most of them avert their eyes when he stands back up. No one follows the tall soldier when he leaves either.

It’s odd that Abigail has a hotel room. Shelly has said she has an apartment near campus. And that she usually spent all her time studying. Shelly’d been complaining that only Tris could really drag her out to places sometimes. But she definitely didn’t mention Abigail being a drinker. She would have if it was a regular thing. Maybe Aunt Bree called ahead or something.

The door to the motel room opens easily. The smell of incense hits him like a spring breeze/. Her shoes and shirt and jeans are draped over a chair by the curtain. It sounds like she’s in the bathroom.

“Hello?” Ben awkwardly closes the door behind him.

“That didn’t take long.” She walks out, running her fingers through her damp hair. She’s clad only in the black lace teddy that was apparently the thing under the overshirt. She took it down from the loose bun. And it’s all wavy and beautiful. He wants to say something, but nothing comes to mind. He can’t say Hello again.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” She smiles at him and sits on the edge of the bed. The covers have been turned inside out, so the sheets are on top.

“So.. um, it’s kind of been a while since..” Since he caused her uncle’s death. “And you… you’re … um…”

“It’s okay.” That soft kind smile melts him back into silence. She pats the bed next to her. “Come here.”

“How… how have you been?” He sits beside her not able to look her in the eyes. He tries to keep his focus on his hands and not on any other part of her.

“No small talk, please.” She reaches up to his face and gently guides it down to hers for a soft kiss that sends his head spinning. This has to be a mistake. There has to be some mistake, Ben’s sure of it.

“Are… are you sure you…” He forces himself to try to say. Is she… could she… Does she….

“Of course, it’s sweet of you to ask.” She gives him a reassuring smile.

“I… I don’t know what I’m doing…” Jesus Christ why did he say that? “I know you think….” She just puts a finger to his lips.

“Shhhh.” Abigail hushes him. “Just do what I tell you to and everything will be fine.”

“Yes, ma’am.”


	7. Motherly Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail realizes her mistake  
> Azrael is used to her efforts being unappreciated  
> Alex makes her final decision.

Chapter 7 Motherly Love.

Abigail gives a contented sigh as she wakes up calm, refreshed and pleasantly sore. He may not have known what he was doing but soldier boy excelled at following orders. She feels a little bad about kicking him out last night, but when he marred the post coital bliss but saying he loved her, he had to go. It was too bad. She loved the way she fit in his arms. It would have been nice if he could have stayed the night. But letting someone that desperately needy to stay the night after what was clearly just a one time thing. Hell, no.

It doesn’t take long to shower and dress. Of course, there seems to be a note on the small table by the door. He probably left her his number. Oh, and he forgot that drive thing that fell out of his pocket earlier in the evening.

“What …” She stops before picking up the note.

“Abigail,” it reads. How the hell did he know her name? Did he go through her wallet? “Aunt Bree and Alex found a cure for Tris. Ben.” Ben? Aunt Bree? BEN! That was not… he was just enormous. His hair was wrong, his eyes were wrong, his voice was not even close… he was built and just...Not thirteen. He’s not thirteen. He’s twenty by now. Oh no. no. nononononononononono.

“Goddamn it! No!” She rips the note apart. “I’m going to ki…” A cure for Tris. A CURE or TRIS! Abigail picks up the small chip and bag and just stares at it. She half shoves it into her purse and goes to check out.

“I was starting to worry.” Uncle Dean comments as Abigail walks into the apartment.

“I fell asleep at the hotel.”

“And you’re up this early? I assumed you’d have a late night, not all night.”

“No. I did sleep in. I didn’t wake until seven. I’m usually up at dawn.” She walks into the living room and plops into the recliner. Tris is definitely asleep by now.

“Coffee?” He brings her a cup, not waiting for an answer. She could use something to drink, but it’s too early for anything harder. “I’m glad you’re back. I wanted to talk to you.”

“No.” She replies firmly with no room for argument, as she takes the cup.

“Excuse me?” He blinks, not prepared for that. Uncle Dean is not used to people not treating him as an unquestionable authority. Not younger people anyways. It’s possible he misinterpreted her politeness and basic respect for deference.

“We’re not going to talk. I have nothing to say to you and you have nothing I’d care to hear. Given this is my apartment and I am in fact an adult, I’m not required to listen to it. My personal life is my own business and you have no right to comment on it. Do I make myself clear?” She states calmly, firmly and bluntly before drinking her coffee. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“We’re just worried about you, Abigail.” He sits on the coffee table to face her. “I’m worried because you have never spoken so rudely and disrespectfully to me before. That and your drinking.” He adds gently.

“My drinking?” This actually takes her by surprise. “What does that have to do with any thing?”

“You’re getting drunk, Abigail. Kind of a lot lately. At first I just thought it was just that turning twenty one thing that happens, or even your way of rebelling a little. But you’re drinking in a way you shouldn’t be.”

“I’m twenty, not twenty one yet. It’s only october. And I am not drinking a lot. I just drown my sorrows when I have a morning I can sleep in. I didn’t last night because I don’t generally believe in mixing sex and alcohol. And what exactly is wrong with that? I choose where and when I get drunk. Who I get drunk with and take as many precautions as I can. It hasn’t caused me any problems and won’t.” Abigail informs him.

“What sorrows are you trying to drown?” Uncle Dean asks about the most personal and irrelevant part of her statement of course. “Because drinking doesn’t down them, it just feeds them.” Abigail just slowly sips her coffee, clearly having no intention to reply to him. “It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

“Don’t,” Her low voice becomes almost an outright growl.

“JJ’s suicide was not your fault, Abigail.” He emphasizes the last four words. “I don’t care if you had a fight that day, or what you said, it wasn’t your fault. You can’t let it keep eating away at you like this. These things don’t just go away because you don’t talk about them. Your feelings don’t go away just because you pretend you don’t have them. They just get stronger. Believe me, I know.” Uncle Dean insists on talking. “This is not a monkey you want on your back, kid.”

“It’s not a monkey on my back. It’s one of the few ways I get to relax. I am doing just fine.” Abigail insists looking sternly at him over her coffee, making him feel alot like he’s talking to a pre apocalypse Raphael.

“I am disease free,” She continues, “I am not pregnant and never have been. I could have been valedictorian again if I wanted to be. I have two bachelor’s degrees already and am just getting a third. I have no arrest record and I’m financially independent. I am also living well beneath my means with a varied portfolio giving consistent returns on stable investments, not to mention the interest on the balance of my savings. So I think I have my life pretty well put together and so would absolutely anyone else.” She slams the empty coffee cup down on the coaster. “I have quite enough to take care of as things are. I don’t need intrusive, overbearing, well meaning family members, which barely even includes you, crawling out of the wood work telling me how to live my life.”

“I’m..”He starts but she cuts him off with an angry swipe of the hand.   
“That includes telling me I’m going on a vacation that I absolutely do not have time for.” 

Abigail gets to her feet. “Give Bruce my love and have fun at Disneyland.” She grabs her purse and walks right back out of the apartment.

Alex sighs and hangs up the phone. What were they thinking? Do they understand nothing about Abigail at all? Raphael at least should have known better. Granted she should have expected Raphael to be completely thrown off his game by Tris’ confessions. But why would he even… It doesn’t matter. Time to try and fix some of the damage.

“The boys are being stupid. need a break. join me for brunch and a movie?” She texts her daughter.

“Only if you promise not to ‘talk’ to me about anything.” Abigail sends back.

“Ears open, Mouth closed. Just promise me not to comment on the movie like u do w/ Shelly&Tris.”

“I only do that at home and in empty theaters.” She responds.

“k, but if u do I’ll start asking uncomfortable questions. Or answers questions u would never ask. We both need to just relax a little. Have another Mother/daughter day.

“Thanks mom.”

“The usual place?”

“No. it’s my treat this time. I want to take you to the cafe at the four seasons. If you want to take a taxi I’ll pay for that as well.’

‘I’ve got it. Thnx. I’ll c u at 10.”Alex puts her phone away. It’s a nice day for a walk to be honest. It’s one thing she misses about having a dog. Going for walks and out to the dog park. She’s been thinking of getting a puppy now that Abigail’s not around to thumb her nose at the idea of replacing Courage. Of course that might end up opening the discussion of having another child and she just can’t go through that again. Not with Raphael spending more hours at the hospital than he ever did in med school. Not without Luci around to look after his little brother’s human while he’s away.

Not that she doesn’t love her daughter, but the thought of breastfeeding, diapers, late nights, early mornings and with everything she has to do... It wouldn’t even be an issue if she’d already gone through or started menopause like she might have if Dean didn’t manage to send her back to twenty one, seven years ago, as well as himself and his brother.

She can’t just abandon her clients either. Or the angels she training to be peer counselors, Then there are the talks she gives at Shelly’s camps to the new recruits about her time in purgatory. It would be impossible to do it all especially with Abigail obviously in crisis even if she doesn’t see it herself. Everyone keeps pressing her to come closer and open up and all it’s doing is making her back away and close up even tighter. Why would they send Dean of all people. What the fuck were they thinking? She can only hope to God that he didn’t bring up the escort service.

It’s bright and sunny outside again. But Abigail’s not in the mood for the light right now. She’s not hungover. She didn’t drink that much. But she didn’t get much sleep either. It was a fairly amazing night given it was free, Given who it turned out to be. He didn’t even say anything. No, that’s not true. He tried saying a lot of things. She didn’t think it was worth hearing. She didn’t interpret it even close to right. He wasn’t so much shy and awkward as he was apologetic and unsure. He must still feel guilty. She’ll have to tell him it’s alright now, the next time they meet. She blamed him sure, but it’s been a few years since she realized that she only blamed him because she had to blame someone, and he wasn’t there.

What had he done to his hair and eyes though? She’s have recognized him with white hair and her Uncle’s ice blue eyes. It would have been nice to see them again. Even if just on Ben. And he was so tall! Ridiculously tall. He didn’t even hint at being that tall the last time he was here, there wasn’t even a clue that he would be.

Abigail rolls her eyes and drinks her coffee. Of course he was only thirteen. And his father’s ridiculously tall. His mother’s fairly tall for a woman. He certainly didn’t have that sculpted marine fit body at thirteen. The probably mandatory marine tattoo was more than obvious. But Ben as a marine? His mother would never have let that happen. Of course when she thinks about it that absolutely beautiful face was almost too much like her Uncle Dean’s for comfort. 

How did she not notice or think… would she have wanted to even if it was in the realm of possibility that night? Oh but just the sight of him made her breath catch in her throat. So few people do that to her. Why would he still be one of them? And that body, those arms, those lips...

That’s not important though. It isn’t important. He brought a cure for Tris. She’d fuck him a thousand times over with no regrets. For bringing her something like this. But he said hs Aunt Bree found the cure. Why would she do that? It’s a joke. That bitch would never do something helpful like that. Maybe if Ben begged her too with those big blue eyes of his. Whatever’s going on it wasn’t her idea. She knows that much. Why would a cure from another reality even work in this one, anyways?

“Hey, honey. Sorry I’m late.” her mother gives her a kiss on the forehead. “We hit every traffic light.”

“It’s okay. Did.. do you have your computer with you?” Abigail asks.

“Of course.” Alex takes her laptop out of her purse. “Here.”

“Thanks.” She takes it and retrieves the chip from her purse. “Usb. Who even uses usb anymore,” She grumbles.

“Me luckily for you.” Alex waves to the waiter for a menu. “What’s that?”

“Ben stopped by to see me last night. He came to give us this to me. It’s a cure for vampirism like Tris’ multiple vampire blood turning.” Abigail plugs it in.

“A cure? Wait. Which Ben? Bookworm Ben, escort Ben, ridiculously handsome sort of cousin Ben or… no… not hunter Ben. That guy couldn’t..”

“Cousin Ben. Not biologically related in any way Ben.” Abigail can’t help but remind herself. Especially given she went through an entire stick of incense last… oh dear god, no. The incense. The actual magically backed aphrodesiac she uses when she wants to make night of it.

“How is he doing?”

“We didn’t talk much.” Abigail manages to keep her voice steady.

“So… what? He just gave it to you and left?”

“I kicked him out, actually.” She’s relieved she can answer her mother with out lying, or wincing. “I don’t have anything more to say to him than I did last time.” She lies the biggest lie she has ever lied, but it is what she believed at the time.

“Okay.” Thankfully her mother leaves it at that.

“Oh, order whatever you like.” Abigail informs her mother as the waiter comes to the table. If you don’t order what you want and try to go cheap I’m going to order everything on the entire menu.” She opens the file that says The Cure. If they’re song lyrics she’s going to scream. But no, it’s not. It’s a recipe for a smoothie. No, a regeneration spell and instructions warnings, notes, logs, the experiment was done on… her mother’s alternate self in the other threat. That par for the course for the feathery bitch, at least.

But first in the beginning, coconut water and vitamins. So all those times Tris was growing weak and tires and so very hungry, that was her starting to turn back. Slowly. Seven years to remake her entire body from vampire back to human. It’s a very slow and vulnerable transition. Maybe not quite as long given the sustenance and targeted bacteria. The entire theory behind it and the end result seem fairly convincing.

Using a spell to target and paralyze the vampire infection inserted into her very cells like a second set of genes is ingenious. The whole thing is brilliant and goes in a direction she never would have thought of on such a microscopic level. It keeps the vampiric genes from reproducing when the cell splits. But it doesn’t it slowly and gently enough not to cause discomfort. The lack of blood of any kind weakens and starves the vampiric component in the cells making the infection slowly die out and be extracted from the cells as waste. The smoothie is both a potion and nutrients drunk to feed and vitalize the human parts of the cells. There’s an excess of vitamin D but apparently that actually helps reverse the effects of the vampirism with an added regenerative boost. This brilliant blend of magic and science is just plain exciting.

She almost cries, she’s so happy, and gives what could either be a small laugh or sob. Her mother just puts a hand on top of hers.

“It might work. Oh, mommy it might work.” She scoots over to grab her mother tightly. “Oh, my god, mom.”

Finally, finally she can save Tris. But it has to be tested. She can’t trust the Nightingale with Tris’ humanity. She just can’t. But at least now, it’s right at her fingertips. Some reviewing of the notes, double checking the scientific principles and the alchemical ones. And of curse, new experiments, possible improvements. Maybe there’s a way to make sure it’s much less than seven years. True hope after such a horrible failure.

“I’m so glad, honey. So glad.” Alex rubs her daughter’s back.

“I have to go. I have to tell her.” Abigail straightens up. “No… she’s sleeping. She’s not reasonable when it comes to waking her up during the day time. And we can’t do anything right now, anyways.”

“It’s okay, Abby. I understand.” Alex nods.

“Thank you, mom.” Abigail emails herself, her father and tris a copy of the file. “I… no. I have time for brunch and a movie.” She takes a breath. “She’s been after me to take care of myself more than usual lately.”

“Sounds good, too.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” Abigail asks as her car service pulls up. “Or even just money for a cab later if you want to spend a little more time downtown.

“I’m fine,Abby. I spend all day sitting at a desk. I like walking. I need to walk. Go on.” Alex nudges her daughter to the car.

“I could just take you home now.” But her mother just shakes her head. “Alright, if you’re sure.” She gives her mother a kiss on the cheek and gets in the car. 

She’s so much like her father. They’re both convinced that just because Alex can’t really cook, or clean that well, she’ll starve in a pile of filth if they don’t take care of her. Well, not really, but they certainly act like it sometimes. They both work too hard, and seem to think they can get away with just a few intimate moments and a drink in terms of relaxation. 

JJ used to be good at getting Abigail to relax and socialize. He even convinced her to join a sorority. That actually helped until she became the president of her chapter later that year. When he killed himself she just finished the year, dropped out of it and devoted her time to her studies. She completely abandoned every friend she made there. Every friend she ever had except Tris. If Tris wasn’t a vampire, she probably would have managed to push her away too. Maybe not, though. 

She barely even talks to Rosalie and Katniss anymore. Though she still likes and cares about them. But they did go off to college and that’s just something that happens with highschool friends. They all kept in touch more until JJ died. But she gets the feeling that it’s more about the inescapable supernatural aspect of her life than anything else. She tried to push them away when Tris got turned but they wouldn’t let her. She always struggled with that. Wanting to go and do something normal, be with normal people who weren’t always talking about hunting and angels and her relatives. People who didn’t even know her relatives, much less who they were. Alex understands. It was hard enough being…

“Wait… what?” Alex takes a step back as the scenery suddenly changes. Not only has time slowed to a halt, but she could have sworn she was in the middle of the cross walk, not back at the curb.

“Hello, Alex.” Azrael greets her as she appears beside her.

“Hey, Billie.” Alex looks the other way, noticing a car smashed into the nearby fire hydrant and the car that was parked way too close to it. There’s a hand peeking out from where she can see. It makes her feel kind of uneasy. Azrael must have just stopped to say hi since she had a job nearby. “This one of yours?” She nods to the site of the accident.

“I’m here for you, Ms. Jones.” The angel of Death informs her calmly.

“You know you need to make an appointment, right? I thought you of all angels would respect protocol. Or at least you could have waited until I got home.” Alex sighs rubbing her eyes. “Maybe you feel comfortable discussing your person business in time frozen public places, but I prefer my office at least for the first visit.” Alex starts to move closer to the accident. Maybe she can do something before the ambulance gets here. Azrael puts a hand on her arm.

“Unfortunately, it’s time for your appointment with me.” The angel of death says gently. “You don’t want to see this.”

“You’d think I’d remember being in an accident like this.” Alex jokes, half heartedly. Though she knows that sometimes the brain doesn’t record or register accidents or suppressing traumatic events. If she died of a brain injury, that would probably do it. It’s so public and very likely very obvious that she’s dead. She’ll have to move to the school when Raphael ressurrects her. She won’t be able to show her face in or near Souix Falls again after a death like this. Unless of course her face is unrecognizable. Oh but she has her id in her purse. Of course. She hopes Jodie doesn’t have to see it. At least Abigail wasn’t here to see it, or get hit by it too, or instead of.

“I do need to talk to you privately. There’s something of interest to you and your husband that you need to know before it’s too late.” Azrael confesses.

“That doesn’t leave much for you to do then, does it.” Alex takes a breath and walks towards her corpse. She needs to see it. She needs to be prepared for how badly traumatized everyone will be. “Not much for me, either. So why say that much?”

“You’ve been resurrected many times. Far too many. More than the Winchesters. And I’ve finally managed to put a stop to their little adventures through the veil. In truth, you’ll probably be resurrected until the end of time. It bother me. But to be fair almost all of them were unwilling and we were kept away from you. I never would have let you suffer like that.” She apologizes for something that wasn’t her fault at all. 

“I know.” Alex acknowledges it, still not wanting to think about days of constant death and ressurection. After a certain amount of times even getting your beating heart ripped out of your body becomes a matter of course, and rape becomes boring. Just the memory. 

“It’s too much to let the resurrections go further.” Azrael takes a second to prepare knowing that Raphael will never forgive her for this. “To prevent this, I can excuse a smaller transgression.”

“In other words. You’ll tell us what we need to know if I agree to stay dead.” Alex crosses her arms.

“I’ll tell you if you promise not to agree to any more resurrections as Alex Jones. Reincarnations are still available for you, just like any other of the long dead. I’ll also give you the option of taking you to heaven where you belong, or of starting a new life in a good home to good parents, where you stand a chance of having a good, safe normal life.” She offers.

“You plan on random reincarnation now if I don’t, I assume.” Alex says carefully.

“No. It’s what I’ll be doing the next time you die if you’re resurrected this time. I love Raphael, but he’s abusing his abilities, as he is wont to do in emotional situations. And he will keep on doing so if he’s not stopped. Do you know why resurrections are so rarely done?”

“Difficulty?”

“The cost.” Azrael says gently. “It takes the equivalent of power of a thousand souls for each resurrection. Whether it’s used to help replenish Raphael or taken directly from the souls from heaven, it’s still a great cost. The amount of souls spent on you along so far are more than three hundred and forty thousand. That’s too much for one person. Especially when the benefit is so low.”

“I see.” Alex takes a moment, letting it all sink in. “My existence is not putting in the energy that’s been taken out. I agree it’s too much for just me, if you look at the big picture. But I think it’s worth any price not to abandon my daughter when she needs me the most, and to keep from breaking my husbands heart at the same time. I understand your position. But aside from my love for my family, I still have so much work to do. Very important work for your family, and more, that might actually end up being worth the cost in the future.” Though that last is just an excuse. They both know that it’s her daughter she doesn’t want to leave.

“I’m certain that if you so choose,” Azrael reminds her. “They will absolutely enable you to continue it in heaven. As for the other reasons you want to live, they’re the same reasons I think you’ll agree to my proposal.” 

Alex is curious. More than curious, and beyond concerned. But it’s hard to really think. Behind the love of her daughter, the love of her husband, her family, her life, is a wall of exhaustion. Each minute of time paused to accommodate half a dozen celestial clients, supernatural beings, those traumatized by supernatural beings. A day of work could turn into months. How old is she really? Were naps between some clients outside of the flow of time and sixteen hours before going back in really enough? Maybe it wasn’t just Raphael who worked too much with too little self care for their daughter to take after.

“I like you, Alex. You’ve been good to him. Good for him. You never… you were more accepting of your deaths than I expected and never argued or begged for more time. Even if you just knew it wouldn’t be that long, you never asked me to violate my principles for my duties. I don’t blame you at all for being willing to be brought back. But I won’t grant you special favors. I have more integrity than that.”

Alex doesn’t smile when Azrael says this, though she’s fully aware that special favors are exactly what are being offered right now. Azrael doesn’t have to tell or offer her anything, much less make any sort of deals with her. She could have just put Alex at the front of the reincarnation line without a word. She must have jumped through hoops mentally to reach this point. After all, especially since the Agreement with the hunters was reached, she’s been especially stubborn about death and resurrections for anyone who isn’t a hunter and made sure her reapers understand that beyond question.

“Before you make a decision, I will tell you what you need to be told. If you don’t think the information worth the trade, then I’ll resurrect you myself and erase all knowledge of this conversation, the entire conversation, from your mind.” Azrael declares, much to Alex’s surprise.

“If I do stay dead, though. I will need a small favor.” Alex expects the irritated glare that’s now on Azrael’s face. “Can you make sure that Jormungandr is the one to get to the morgue first to identify my body, and that Raphael and Abigail don’t see me this way.” Azrael’s expression softens and she nods. “Tell me.”


	8. Abba's Little Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael does not take the news well.  
> Michael and Gabrielle try to help take care of their hurting brother.  
> Abigail is incommunicado.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, our Michael and Gabrielle have still not made up since the last book.  
> I'm not sure if they really will in this one or not, but it's not so bad they can't work together  
> Why does voicemail even exist anymore now that we have text and email?

Chapter 8 Daddy’s Little Girl

Alex crouches down in the corner of the barn teasing the kitten with a piece of hay. It’s a small joy, but one of her happier moments when she was seven after being taken from her parents, her home, her life, forced to stay with all these scary men and their mother. A litter of stray kittens in the barn was her own little secret. That was heaven on earth. It’s a little harder to enjoy it now that she knows what’s going to happen to them.

“Alex,” Raphael appears behind her. “I’m here to bring you home.”

“No. I’m sorry, Raph, but not this time.” Alex lets go of the straw and stands up. It continues to move on it’s own as the scene continues without her. “I’m so sorry, honey.”She puts her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Raphael asks with the same bewilderment he had when a tired toddler Abigail burst into tears because she was given the wrong chocolate chip cookie. She wanted the one with m’n’m’s that her uncle made her. They couldn’t find it because Shelly ate it right when it came out of the oven. Abigail wouldn’t eat anything else at all until her uncle made her a new one. Not even a perfect copy made by Auntie Bree because ‘it didn’t have all the love’. “Did Azrael threaten you?”

“Yes and no. She just informed me of what would happen given my options. I’m not going to let you resurrect me this time, Raph. Because it’s time for me to stay dead.” Alex says calmly.

“Don’t talk nonsense.” He scolds her, though far more gently than he says that to Gabriel. He keeps a tight hold of her. “You’re too young. You didn’t… you didn’t die oh illness or old age. Just a stupid accident. You didn’t want to die, so why do you want to stay dead?”

“Don’t pretend you would have ever let me die of illness or old age.” Alex challenges him, breaking away. “I’m also not a hunter on a hunt. They don’t have to let any of us be resurrected anymore, Raph, and you know it. I’m just happy my soul qualifies as human after everything. And I have you to thank for that.” She tries to soothe him. “Besides it’s not as if I’m lost to you. I’m just living in your home now.”

“I don’t care. We have a daughter who needs you right now. I’ll mark your soul as mine and she can’t touch it.” It’s like he’s not listening to her at all.

“Stop.” Alex’s voice is firmer and more certain than she really feels as she grabs hold of his arms. “I know the cost of resurrections, Raphael. The work I need to do I can do here. I’ve cheated death so many times. I’m ready to pay the piper.”

“I don’t care about the cost! You’re worth it. You will always be worth it. You’ve always been worth it. And what about Abigail? Isn’t she worth it? Aren’t I?” Raphael demands. It’s not as if she expected him to accept this easily. “ Aren’t we worth living for?”

“Of course. But you’re also worth dying for.” She stops him before he can continue. “Abigail’s soul is earmarked for Hell, Raph.” As she did expect, this stuns him into silence. “Azrael told me, as incentive to stay dead. If I said no, she’d have erased it from my memory and we’d have gone on thinking that all that was wrong was that Abigail was over-worked, overstressed, and still not over JJ.”

“That’s a lie.” Raphael finally says, started to get more angry than panicked. “She would never.. She’s not… Abigail is a good, moral, conscientious young woman. She’s the farthest thing from evil you can be. This has to be a mistake.” He insists. If it weren’t for the price she’s paying for this knowledge and who she’s paying it to, Alex would have felt the same way.

“I’d like to believe that, too. But you know Azrael’s not like that.” Alex reminds him but he steps back from her. He looks as if she’s just completely and utterly betrayed him.

“My little Abigail is not stupid enough to make a deal. She’s a good girl, Alex. A few drinks and debaucherous evenings don’t send you to hell. Did she give any even remotely plausible reason why our Abigail could even possibly be going to hell?” He demands.

“No. She doesn’t always know the why. Just the current destinations. All she knows is that our daughter’s soul is hellbound.” Alex shakes her head.

“How can you say that so calmly?!How can you just accept all of this? The thought that our baby could possibly be that corrupted… it’s not possible. How could you believe it? Do you even love her at all?” It takes everything Alex has to ignore the accusation. 

“Abigail is lost right now, Raphael.” She tried to control her own anger. “I’ve told you this but you didn’t want to hear it. She’s been lost and floundering for a long time, long before JJ’s death. Not scholastically of course, but emotionally, maybe even morally. I don’t know how to get her back, Raph. I’ve been trying so hard but she won’t talk to me. All I’ve managed to do is keep from pushing her away. But our daughter could have easily fallen without our knowing it.”

“That can’t happen.”

“It happens, Raphael! She has darkness inside her just like we all do. She can make the wrong decisions, go down the wrong path just like any of us, just like we did. You know she’s secretive and independent and doesn’t like to trouble or bother us with her problems or struggles. 

“Its so rare to get anything negative from her at all. I have to guess at it and wait. I know you miss the days when she told you everything and came to you for comfort every time something went wrong. But it was never going to last forever. For all we know, maybe this hell thing is simply because she’s still angry at God and rejecting him for all the terrible things that have happened.” Alex guesses. Raphael is clearly surprised by the suggestion. Not that Abigail wouldn’t be angry with God for Helel’s loss and maybe even JJ’s, but not to the extent that they would outright reject each other.

“What do you mean, she’s still angry?” He sits down heavily on an overturned cart.

“Don’t you remember, when she came back from saving Shelly? Luci told us about it. Or maybe she just told me. I don’t remember who told who what. I don’t know. It was just so long ago.”

“Why is she angry? That was before anything happened.”

“What reason does anyone have to be angry with god?” It could have been a small thing that she would have gotten over that was made worse with a big thing she couldn’t. Like her Uncle’s death. She’s still hurting so much from that. Maybe she blames your father.” Alex suggests sitting next to him.

“She said she’s come to terms with it.” Raphael says quietly.

“Raph, she still hasn’t gotten over losing Courage.” Alex points out. “She won’t even acknowledge another dog unless she’s forced to and thinks she’s come to terms with that. Maybe the terms she came to were accepting the event happened but utterly rejecting who she considers the architect of everything. She’s stubborn, independent, proud, and has probably convinced herself she’s okay when she isn’t. You do that, you know. Pretty much everyone in our family does that. And our friends.”

“Apparently you do that, too.” Raphael says quietly. “I never thought of you as someone who would accept death so easily.”She’s tempted to inform him that this decision was anything but easy, but that would lead him to think there’s a chance of changing her mind. “I’m going to go have a word with Azrael. When she admits her deceit, I will come straight back and bring you home so we can help our lost little girl before she can get even close to that lost. And we’ll do it as a family. The way it should be.” Raphael declares and disappears.

Alex just gives a sigh and buries her face in her hands. It’s just as well. He’d never understand the happy memories of the next several years. And hopefully when he comes back, it’ll be either well before or well after her memories of Rhys. Besides she doesn’t feel up to keep trying to make him face the fact that their daughter is human and all of what that means.

Raphael stands in the living room of Abigail’s apartment, waiting for his daughter to return from where ever she is at the moment. She’s probably at school or the library. It’s also likely she’s out with Tris since her friend is gone as well. He has to talk to her about her mother, about her soul.

It’s torture to just stay there, but his stupid little sister helped Abigail ward herself against angelic detection when she and Jamal started getting serious. He understands the need for privacy but it makes things difficult. Her phone just goes to voicemail and she hasn’t returned any of his calls. Not that he knows exactly what to say, but he definitely doesn’t want it said over the phone. The next call also goes to voicemail.

‘I don’t use voicemail. If you know me, text me. Hang up after the beep.’ Her voice commands.

“Abigail.” Raphael ignores the message. “This is your father. Come home immediately. I need to talk to you about something, but not ‘that’. This is more important.” he ends the call. He should probably send a text as well.

“What is there to say? They used to be so close. When she started growing distant while dating JJ he assumed it was because she was falling in love. He knows how it can over take everything. Her mother thought so too. It was just natural normal growing up, so he let her have her space. Maybe he shouldn’t have. Maybe he should have tried harder.

Maybe he should have been a little less willing to let things go. Was he neglected her soul in the name of respecting her privacy? He was just trying so hard to let her grow up even as he wished she never would.

He should have talked to her about his feelings in regards to his father. His own anger and resentment, so she could better make sense of her own. He’d have had to be fair, though. He’d have had to be honest. He hasn’t felt like being either, not about this. Could his own stubbornness have helped his little girl damn herself?

But more importantly, if something happened that hurt her so badly that she would reject her grandfather so completely, how did they not notice? How can this daughter he takes pride in and loves so completely be damned. He can see anything in or about her that could possibly deserve damnation. Is this how his brothers felt when Helel was cast out? He hurriedly brushes the thought aside.

How can he ask her about this? How can he tell her how he knows? The price her mother paid for this information. Or even if he doesn’t, how can he tell her that the woman they both love and need is not lost to her possibly forever, by choice. The reason wouldn’t matter. She still chose to abandon them. Just like Luci. What could he possibly say to make that better? How can he keep from making things worse when he doesn’t know how he managed to make things between them so bad in the first place. He didn’t even know how bad things were.

“Raph!” Gabriel appears a brief second father than Michael does as Raphael’s distress unconsciously calls to his sisters.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” Michael quickly embraces him.

“Alex is dead. She refuses to be resurrected and Abigail’s soul is currently marked for Hell.” Raphael says bluntly. His voice is a little empty.

“What?” Gabriel’s a bit taken aback by the news, not sure what to address first.

“I don’t believe that.” Michael shakes his head. “Not Abigail and neither can I believe Alex would abandon her daughter.”

“You’re not exactly the best judge, Miqa. You didn’t exactly notice when Raphael went off the rails.” Gabriel comments. “As for you, Raph, I know you’re not about to believe anything bad about your baby girl.”

“You think my daughter is evil?” Raphael accuses turning a dark look to his little sister. Michael looks downright offended at the assumption.

“I don’t know, Raph. I didn’t think so. I knew she was troubled but I thought you guys had a handle on it.” Gabriel wanders into the kitchen.

“You could have helped us.” Raphael snaps.

“How? By offering advice? As if either of you even listen to anything I have to say. And while all of heaven may think Michael’s still in charge, I’m the one doing all the actual work so I’m a little too busy to raise your children for you. Not that they pay much attention to me, either.” She stops in front of the fridge. “Oh, look, they left a note.” Her tone changes as she plucks it from the freezer door and starts reading.

‘Tris and Abs have gone on vacation, will be incommunicado until we return. Email in case of emergency at  [ QueenAJ1134@gmail.com ](mailto:QueenAJ1134@gmail.com) or  [ CaptainTris1134@gmail.com ](mailto:CaptainTris1134@gmail.com) . Heart. Tris and Abs’

“Well, I guess we know who wrote this.” Michael grins a little. His siblings ignore him for different reasons.

“There. Communication problem solved. And what’s the fuss about Alex? You can resurrect her without her consent, you know. Just as soon as you get her body back from the morgue.” 

“Technically I can, but it violates the treaty with the reapers. And if I do convince her to let me resurrect her anyways the next time she dies she’s being sent to immediate reincarnation like the Winchesters. That would mean she won’t be able to continue helping our brothers as she would be able to do in heaven. She’ll never forgive me for that. I doubt our brothers will be very happy about that either.” Raphael is forced to explain the situation. “Also, her agreement to stay dead is how we know that Abigail’s soul has been condemned to hell. I don’t know what to tell our daughter about this.” He rests his head in his hands.Michael sits down next to him and puts a hand on his back.

“Now that is the question.” Gabriel opens the fridge door. “I mean, you can’t just say ‘ Abigail, your mother’s dead and never coming back. Now tell me, why are you going to hell?” Gabriel ignores the look Michael gives her as she comes out with a slice of leftover pizza. She just sits down next to her brother and rests her head on his shoulder in sympathy.

“Obviously the matter of her mother needs to be brought up first.” Raphael concedes, resting his head on his little sister’s in return. “People will have to be told. The death has already been registered and recorded and it was too public to sweep under the rug. Even when I can convince her to come back, Alex Jones will be dead. Funeral arrangements will have to be made…”

“I’ll make the calls if Michael will take care of the rest. That way you can just focus on Abigail.” Gabrielled suggests.

“Of course I can.” Michael nods.”I’ll go consult with Alex about it. See what she wishes to be done.”

“I’m telling Abigail myself.” Raphael declares. “And leave the job of telling Claire to me as well.”

“Absolutely not.” Gabrielle’s comforting hug and Michael’s reassuring hand turn into less comfort than an attempt to keep him in one place.

“It’s my responsibility.” Raphael argues, though his heart clearly isn’t in it.

“No. You will absolutely not be the one to tell her.” Michael firmly commands. “It’s not. Claire is a psychopomp. I’ll see about bringing Alex’s soul to helheim to tell her sister about this. It was her decision after all. Asking you to deal with Claire is too much.”

“I can tell her.” Gabrielle interjects. “Claire actually likes me. Raph, you just stay here and try to figure out what to tell Abigail. I’ll have Shelly go look for her and bring her back so you can talk to her, okay?” She kisses her brother’s cheek. “I’ll have Cas come wait with you so you’re not alone. Or does her highness have something to say about that.” She glares at Michael when his objection clearly shows on his face at the mention of that particular angel.

“Only if Raphael does.” Michael tempers his reply.

“I don’t object.” Raphael shakes his head.

“Good. He’ll be right here.” Gabrielle disappears. Michael waits to leave until Castiel arrives to take his place.


	9. Big Sister Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins are informed  
> Alex and Michael have a talk.   
> Gabrielle and Michael have a fight.

Chapter 9 Big Sister Blues

“Aren’t they going to bring her back?” Chris asks, leaning against the railing as Riley skates around the edges of the rink for her cool down. Shelly just sits quietly on the rail.

“No. There are… circumstances and she’s died her last.” Gabrielle informs her nephew.

“What a fucked up statement.” Riley comments as she skates past. “She’s died her last.”

“Well it’s a fucked up world.” Chris replies, a little irritated at his sister’s callousness. “How is Abigail taking it?”

“We haven’t told her yet. She and Tris are out on vacation somewhere. We don’t know where and their phones are off and such.”

“Typical.” Riley slides to a halt. “She neglects family by working too hard and now that she’s taking a vacation, she’s neglecting her family by relaxing too hard.”

“Riley, her mother is dead.” Chris snaps.

“She’ll get over it.” Riley heads over to the bench. “Can I take it we’re not finishing practice today?”

“Yes. I’m going back home to be with our Uncle and cousin. But if you’d rather be a hypocrite and stay to work on your triple, freel free.” Comes the catty reply.

“Do you want a lift?” Gabriel offers, hoping to distract from or cut off a fight, but it might not work.

“No. You know the paparazzi follow us too close for that. I’ll be taking the Red Eye with Uncle Jeff. I’ll text mom when to meet us at the airport.”

“I’m not going.” Riley starts to untie her laces. “And in case you’ve forgotten, Jean Michele, we have another olympics to train for and I am not losing to those little french rejects again.”

“We didn’t lose last time. Riley.”

“It was close. When it’s that close with those fucks its as good as a loss. We need to leave them in the dust this time. And that requires a shit ton of practice.” She points her skate at her twin. 

”Well, good luck practicing by yourself. I’ll be back sometimes after the funeral.” Chris works on his own shoes. “It’s bad enough I have to be the boy this year.” he grumbles. “I have to deal with your selfish bitter old ass.”

Shit. Riley’s holding her tongue. Something’s going to be destroyed shortly. It’s escalated much faster than Shelly hoped it would.

Ever since Jamal’s suicide, Riley has absolutely hated Abigail who refuses to just take the abuse, and Chris has been torn between his love and loyalty to his twin and something that is rapidly growing into much more than puppy love. Whenever Abigail’s involved, Riley gets bitter and jealous and possessive of Chris more than it could ever be appropriate. After all Chris would probably side with Abigail if she had murdered the boy in cold blood and not just broken up with him before.

The twins can usually pretend it’s a non-issue. Abigail doesn’t turn to them anymore than she does anyone else, no matter how hard Chris tries to be a comfort and confidant. But she’s never turned Chris away for any reason, and would probably never turn Riley away, either, if she needed anything from her other than to suffer even more than she already is. That fact alone was almost enough to cost them the qualifiers for nationals. For which they tied with Renard and Merceau, who might have a chance at winning this year if things keep going the way they’re going.

“You’re mother will come back and accompany you home, Chris. You can’t stay on your own, Riley.” Gabrielle breaks the silence for them. Though leaving Jeff behind to watch Riley is more of a punishment to Jeff than to Riley.

“I have a coach, don’t I?” Riley shouts back and heads to the locker room. “And we do have our mother’s permission to stay with him.

“I hate seventeen.” Gabrielle mutters and covers her eyes. “You okay, Shelly Belly?” She turns back to her daughter.

“Why can’t Aunt Alex be brought back?” Shelly finally speaks up when Chris goes to the changing room as well.

“Because Alex agreed not to be in exchange for some information about Abigail.” Gabriel says quietly. “And I think maybe she was getting a little tired.”

“I hope it was some pretty damn valuable information for her to abandon Abigail like that. First Uncle Luci chooses death over being with his own family and now her mother? This is going to absolutely break her, mom.”

“It was. Michelle…” Gabrielle starts, putting her daughter on instant alert. “Abigail’s soul is at the present, hellbound. Would you have even the slightest idea as to why that might be?” She asks her gently. Shelly just looks at her with genuine surprise and shakes her head.

“No. I… I can’t think of anything.” Her voice trails off. “I should be able to, shouldn’t I? I should know about something like that, but I don’t. I don’t know anything. I know she’s in college, working on her third degree. I know she lives with Tris in her own very nice apartment, and I know she’s been volunteering at halfway houses and rehab centers between semesters.

“I know she still trains with Aunt Michael and I know she hasn’t moved on from JJ’s death but aside from that, I guess I don’t know anything at all. I didn’t even know she had enough tree time to do anything that could send her to hell, much less that she’d be capable of something like that.” Shelly gives an odd laugh and brushes her hair back away from her face, twisting it up into a bun.

“She just wanted me to give her some space to breathe, so I gave her space. She was a little too busy, but Tris made sure she got a break. And I had Alice and my little Brucie to take care of. And she had Auntie Miqa and her parents and I was always there if she needed me. I let her know that. I thought she knew that. I just… she’s so capable and smart, I just thought she just never needed me. I should have just been there anyways.” Shelly lets her hair fall back down. 

“Alex thinks it may just be because she’s angry with your grandfather for something.” Gabrielle reassures her daughter that it’s probably nothing she could do anything about. Shelly just nods. “And has rejected him and all he and heaven have to offer.”

“Well, that does sound like her. When she loses her temper, I mean.” She concedes. Abigail doesn’t lose her temper that much since the twins were no longer living across the hall, but when she does, it’s as if someone found the formula for cold fusion. “I don’t know why she’d be angry with Grandpa though. He’s been great to us. I’ll look into this. All of it.” She takes a deep breath.”I’m her angel and this is my responsibility, no matter how terrible a guardian angel I am.” Shelly straightens herself up. “I should have stepped in a long time ago.”

“Do you know where she could be?” 

“I have a few ideas.” Shelly does not give her mother an actual answer as she hoped her daughter would. “I’ll let you know when I find her.” Shelly stretches her arms out in front of her. “Let me just let Uncle Dean know about the situation and bring Bruce back to Alice, first.”

“Of course.” Gabrielle puts a hand on her daughter’s arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I mean Aunt Alex and I weren’t exactly close. She was just kind of there, you know. And I’m… whatever’s going on with Abigail right now, we can fix it. She’s a good person. I mean, shoot, if Dad and Uncle Dean are allowed into heaven given all the shit they’ve done, then it won’t be hard to get her back on the guest list before it’s too late. If all it is are feelings…” Shelly winks and disappears. Her mother, though, is not so confident. That’s how it all starts, with feelings.

“I honestly never thought about it.” Alex replies as Michael stands beside her, just smiling as he watches her take her new born girl in her arms, away from the absolutely smitten Raphael. “Funerals are for the living really. What do you think would make things easier on them? Abigail especially. I wish I could still talk to her. Let her know I still love her and will always love her no matter what. Would you?” Alex places the hungry newborn awkwardly to her breast.

“Of course I will. I’ll see if I can enable some sort of correspondence. Or a workable cell phone.” Michael promises.

“To be honest, though. I always wanted to be an apple tree afterwards. With sweet flavorful apples for anyone to eat. I figure that way I could feed people without it hurting so much. Plus maybe by feeding people I could make up for helping feed my family, even just a little. I even ate apples all the time, seeds and all, just in case. Foolish magical thinking, I know. Thinking that I could ever really make up for what I did. I don’t deserve to be here, Michael.” She gently strokes Abigail’s soft baby cheek.

“That’s what forgiveness is for, Alex.” He places a hand on her head. “What you did as a child and tried to break away from on the way to adulthood has been forgive. Not because you do or don’t deserve it, but because you’re loved and wanted. And love and want forgiveness in return. Let yourself be loved and wanted and taken care of for a change. Let yourself be happy.”

“Happy. That would be nice. You don’t know how long I’ve actually lived.” All those seconds stretched into hours after hours of appointments. I meet with all of your siblings once a week, Michael. Either to counsel or teach. I love my family and friends but I’ve been so tired lately. So very tired and I didn’t realize what it was until I died. I’ve been tired of being tired and hungry and of almost never seeing my daughter and husband. All the weight on my shoulders and here in heaven I still have most of the responsibility and none of those fleeting good moments. Just memories of them. But still I just… I need some rest Michael, my soul is heavy and worn. I think... I think maybe if I was resurrected again. I’d start to cry. I feel so ungrateful.” She confesses.

“No. No, you’ve given everything to us. It’s time for you to rest to your hearts content.” Michael kisses her forehead. “I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re not to be disturbed under any circumstances. If you want to see someone, just call to me and ask for them.”

“Alright. Ask Harahel if she can distribute my files to the angels taking my place as their siblings counselors in the interim. I’d like her to do it personally as this is very sensitive information.”

“Of course.” Michael nods. “Don’t worry about Raphael or Abigail. I’ll take care of them for you.” He reassures her.

“Alex!” They hear Claire somewhere in the replica of the hospital.

“Oh, I see it’s time to comfort someone else again.” Alex tries to fake a smile, then looks up at Michael. “Please don’t make me do this right now. I’d really just like to have these little moments again.”

“I understand.” Michael nods.

“Alex.” Claire opens the door to the room. “What…”Michael just snaps her voice away and takes her by the arm, lifting her up on her toes.

“Alex needs some rest right now.”

“I’ll see you a bit later.” Alex doesn’t look over at them.

“I’ll take care of everything.” Michael infrms her on their way out. “Enjoy your moments.”

“Thank you.”

The conversation went as well as Michael expected. With Claire being the often selfish brat that she is. She and Alex may be ‘sisters’ but there’s no shaking the ‘only child’ out of Claire. At the very least she agreed to give Alex some time to adjust and relax and enjoy herself a little. Plus a little redirection resulted in a high probability of Claire going to have a few words with Azrael, who can’t stand Claire for so many reasons. Michael’s not exactly fond of either of them.

“So I see you’re the last word on who is allowed where in heaven.” And his own little brat is here.

“I’m not in the mood for your nonsense, Gabrielle. And I’m definitely not in the mood for you picking a fight.” Michael’s slightly more annoyed tone suggests that his little sister might just get one.

“Why did you eject Claire from heaven?” She demands.

“Because Alex deserves some peace and needs to rest her soul. What she doesn’t need is to spend her time helping people come to terms with a decision she hasn’t completely come to terms with. Heaven is not supposed to be a place of guilt and burdens. Of is there a reason you want to end up having her burst into tears in a place designed to bring joy and happiness and most of all, peace.”

“Who’s the one trying to start a fight again?” Gabrielle inclines her ear towards him.

“You are. Why are you angry with me now? What are you blaming me for now? Because  it can’t just be about my intercepting Claire, which in fact I did because Alex asked me to. Did you ask her if she was ready to see Claire? Because if you didn’t then you were the one out of bounds.” Michael retorts, hoping he’s put her in her place, but that hasn’t exactly worked very well since they got him out of the cage. 

“Michael, you are retired, by your choice and yet you still continue to undermine my authority at every turn. Isn’t that enough of a reason to be a little mad at you? And then you get a self righteous attitude about it and call it ‘nonsense’. I’m supposed to be okay with that? Cure you and Luci could beat each other senseless but I can’t be a little snarky about you acting like I’m not actually the one in charge up here now, and have no real authority over anything?” She bristles, standing as tall as she can. “I swear to dad if I hear one more angel say ‘But Michael said’ one more time I’m going to go to the olympics just to punch you in the head!”

“Well, maybe, just maybe if you spent some actual time in heaven, they wouldn’t keep coming to find me when they have a problem.” Michael shoots back. “You don’t get to be mad at me for covering for you when you’re neglecting your duties.”

“This has been the arrangement for a long time, Michael. They didn’t start going to you on topics they know we disagree on, “She emphasizes, “Until you showed your complete and utter contempt for me and my authority as well as my personal autonomy by forcibly confining me to the garden, grounding me like a child when I had done NOTHING! And all that just so you could go off and handle things your way. Well your way wasn’t quite good enough, was it?” Her words cut Michael deeper than he knew she could.

“Gabriel. Enough!”

“Sure. Why not?” Gabriel gives a nonchalant shrug. “Michael’s said enough so it’s enough. Why do we even bother thinking or feeling or making decisions when Michael is here to do it for us. Thank God for Michael.” Gabrielle disappears in a huff.

Michael just covers his face. He wants to scream. Why is she like this? Things were going so well and now it’s back to ‘blame Michael for everything’. Well that’s fine. He’s used to it. When she grows up and gets over it, he’ll be there, waiting for her apology.   
  



	10. My Faer Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail recruits Ben  
> Mary and Bree look for Michael.

Chapter 10 My Faer Lady

“Take care of yourself. Ben gives Jaz one last hug as the bus starts to take on passengers.

“You, too. And I won’t promise not to raise a fuss about this bullshit. I mean, my parents know people. Hell, your father probably knows people. You shouldn’t have taken all this on your shoulders, but thank you for doing it.”

. “You’re more than welcome, Jax.” He rubs her back. 

“Take care of him, Jeb.” She calls before climbing on the bus. Jeb just waves and nods.

“Well, that seemed to go well. Your mother’s a good host. And she seemed genuinely glad to have you back home.” Jeb tries to cheer Ben up a little.

“ I know. I’m still fairly sure I’m in deep, though. I’m not sure there won’t be a trial.” Ben just keeps smiling and waving at the bus, determined to stay until it leaves. “But she probably won’t do it until after you’ve gone home.”

“I will still have to find a place to stay.” Jebs not sure if Ben’s joking or not. He does know that Ben’s mother made it clear that Jeb’s not staying indefinitely. She doesn’t seem overly fond of him for some reason.

“We both should. I won’t prevent trouble, but I am twenty one and it would be nice not to have to have the old, ‘as long as you live in my house’ card played again.” Especially since Ben once brought up that it’s actually his Dad’s house and his mother is legally dead. She countered with communal property law and common law wife statues and went very deeply into what does and does not fall under her domain both as his mother and the ViceRoy of heaven and protector of the earth.

“Almost twenty one.” Ben sighs. “I miss the marines. I kind of liked having so much freedom, especially getting to have my own space.”

“The fact you consider the marines to have either of those things gives me a terrifying vision of your childhood.” Jeb frowns.

“BENNY!” Jeb almost jumps as a tall curly haired blonde suddenly grabs Ben from behind, hugging his neck. “How’s my little baby brother, Benny boy?” She lets go of his neck to kiss his cheek, leaving a big obnoxious pink lip print.

“Hi, Shelly.” He greets his big sister flatly, patting her arm. “You remember my friend, Jeb.”

“Aww, it’s your widdle boyfweind.” Shelly pats Jeb’s head, as if it’s his fault she and Ben are giants. “Hi. Widdle Boyfweind.” He just knows his hair is a complete mess now. “I know, I know, just because you worship the ground he walks on doesn’t mean you’re in love. I get it. Ben feels the same way about muh” Ben puts a hand over her mouth, just to stop her talking in general.

“Will you just be quiet for once? I’m not in the mood for your nonsense today.” Just tell me what you want and why it has to be me.” He reluctantly removes his hand.

“I need your help, Ben.” She confesses, as if he didn’t already know. “I think I know where Abigail is, but she’s managed to lock me out so I need you to go in and tell her that she needs to come out and see me. Because there’s something really important she needs to talk to her father about.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Jeb says quickly as Ben’s face falls a little. “I’m sure you’re not the only person who’s able to do it.”

“I… I don’t think she’ll want to talk to me.” Ben uncomfortably informs his sister, who’s resting her chin on his shoulder.

“Look, Ben.” She straightens up. “It’s been years. She’s over it now. She’s seen what absolutely irresponsible ‘definitely not adults in any fashion’ thirteen year olds are and I doubt she still blames you.” Shelly reassures him.

“I think she has something else to be angry with me for now.” Ben quickly walks back to the parking lot now that the bus has left.

“You mean that you’re angry at her for.” Jeb corrects him. Ben’s little shake of the head absolutely infuriates him. Always so damn quick to shoulder the blame for everything. “She didn’t even ask your name and you’re thinking you were too aggressive?”

“I should have known she didn’t recognize me.” Ben insists. “I should have. Because it doesn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense. But I didn’t even question it and that was my fault. Understand?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Shelly slips into the passengers seat before Jeb can. 

“Your cousin, the heartless little whore.”Jeb snaps, sitting in the back.

“Ah.” Shelly turns and punches him in the face with one smooth motion. She somehow manages to give him a black eye without breaking his glasses.”Consider that a warning before you talk about my Abby Girl like that again.” She says cheerily, then punches him again for good measure.

“Michelle!”

“Fine. But talk.’ She orders and reaches back again. Jeb flinches slightly. “Oh, don’t be a baby.” She taps his forehead, healing his injuries.

“Aunt Bree found a cure for Abigail’s friend, Tris.” He rests his head on the steering wheel again. “So I went over to your thread to give it to her. I found her in a bar. Well, she spotted me even before I saw her I think. Anyway she came over, gave me the key to her hotel room and um…”

“Noooo.” Shelly laughs. “Noooo. She picked you up at a bar?”

“It’s not funny.” Ben’s cheeks turn red. 

“Yes it is. You probably thought she recognized you and was being all secretive and hunter like and she was really just thinking,’well there’s a sweet piece of ass hot enough to roll the dice on.”

“Don’t….” Ben winces and shakes his head, hoping to erase the sound of his sister’s voice saying that from his mind. “Don’t ever say something like that again. It’s creepy.”

“So, how far did you let things go before you told her who you were?” Shelly asks much to Ben’s dismay. “Just so I know exactly how bad it might be sending you in there.”

“It has to get worse for you not to?”

“Yes. It is kind of an emergency.”

“Okay. I didn’t realize she didn’t know it was me until I took a shower and saw I had left my hair brown and my eyes green from the little makeover party my fellow marines has me do before Aunt Bree gave me the cure.”Ben confesses. Shelly just looks at him for the longest time. “Can you wait to beat me until we get home?”

“Maybe.” Shelly buckles herself in and lets him pull out to the main road before punching his shoulder. “What the hell, Ben!”

“I didn’t… she took me by surprise!”

“And what? Overpowered you?”

“No, I just… I wasn’t thinking, it was just the way she looked, felt, smelled, even the incense just, it… I couldn’t think of anything else but her, ” And doing whatever she said to do, though he’s definitely not saying that in front of those two. Or anyone. Ever. “I was lost in her… everything.”

“Well, you lost something, that’s for sure.” So congratulations you stu.. Wait. Incense?” Shelly looks over at him a bit concerned.

“Yeah. I did try to talk to her, but she just kept telling me to shut up. When it was over, she kicked me out. She did let me take a shower first, but I wasn’t brave enough to stick around afterwards when I realized what had happened.”

“Was the incense burning when you entered or did she ask if you minded an aphrodesiac?” Shelly winces asking a very weird question.

“It was burning. Which was good because it didn’t look like a hotel that would smell all that great with a broken air conditioner.” Ben points out.

“And how long did you two… you know.” Shelly asks.

“That… what the hell does that have to do anything?” Ben blushes. He definitely doesn’t feel like telling them it was more than once, even not counting that incredibly embarrassing first embrace that she didn’t give him time to feel embarrassed about at the time.

“He didn’t come back until after midnight.” Jeb informs her. Shelly winces a little.

“Shit. Okay. Yeah, that’s the one I was thinking of. You both kind of screwed the pooch on this one, though it was mostly Abigail’s screw up. But I’m fairly sure it was completely accidental. So she’s going to be embarrassed and feeling guilty. While this will make it admittedly extremely awkward for you, she’ll be more likely to listen to you. So, good.” Shelly gives a relieved sigh.

“Excuse me?” Ben looks over at her.

“Well, not good.” She leans back in the seat. “I’m going ot have to tan her little hide for this and take the incense away but… I’m sorry about this. It’s not the heartfelt romantic reunion you were hoping for. I mean, it never would have been, but… are you okay?” She looks over at him as if realizing something.

“It was… I’m… it’s not exactly what I expected it would be.” is all he says.

“I still have to ask you to help. It.. it is an emergency. And I need to get to my Abby girl and soon as possible.” Shelly reluctantly asks him again.

“Really? Who’s dying?” Jeb snaps when Ben doesn’t refuse. 

“Died. And her mother. So why don’t you shove it soldier boy. Better yet.” Shelly snaps a large hampster bubble around him and his seat. “There, a little privacy.”

“He needs to breathe Michelle.” Ben reaches back without looking and touches the ball, making it disappear. “Just talk to me in enochian if you don’t want him to know.”

“Fine.” She switches to enochian. “I don’t like him.”

“I know you don’t, but he’s my best friend. You wanted me to have friends.” He reminds her.

“:Freinds. Not worshippers. Friends help keep you down to earth. Worshippers will have you thinking you’re a lowercase god. And you do not need that. Not again.” Shelly says pointedly not looking at him. Ben tenses at the mention. “I like your other friends. I just don’t think Jebediah there is good for you.”

“ I don’t care what you think of my friends, any of them. I’m sorry about Aunt Alex, she was always very kind and understanding, but won’t they just resurrect her?”

“No. It’s complicated. She’s agreed to stay dead in order to learn that Abigail’s in trouble. I don’t think we ever would have learned about it otherwise. Nobody expected…. I… the current most acceptable theory is that she’s just mad at grandpa but we don’t know. I’m her angel, but… but I can’t.. We’re not really as close as we used to be. All of that holiday letter stuff I tell you, it’s literally all I know about her and her life. Half of it’s not even first hand knowledge. I don’t know if I can save her, but I have to try. And now that she’s locked me out of hell, I’m especially worried.”

“Hell? Abigail is in HELL?” Ben exclaims and just barely stops the car in time for the light.

“She’s alive! It’s okay. She’s alive. I’m pretty sure she’s okay, too, but I don’t know and I can’t ask my relatives because they won’t be able to handle this even close to delicately. Where as you can just walk right in and go straight to the throne unchallenged. Probably.” Shelly adds.

“Probably?”’

“90% sure.” Shelly reassures him. “But for the other ten percent, you have military training and years as a hunter, plus you’re awesome angelic powers. So they wouldn’t even really be able to hurt you anyways. Soooooo. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need this, Ben.” She looks at him pleadingly. He just gives a sigh and starts driving again as a car behind him starts to honk.

“I’ll help. Of course, I will. I just don’t understand, that’s all. What happened? Why would she… how could she change so much?”

“It didn’t have to be much. Just enough, I guess.” Shelly slumps down in her seat. “You don’t have to tell her any of this. You don’t.. I just… we need to get her home that’s all. We’ll talk to her, she’ll talk to us and we’ll be just fine. Everything will be fine. I’ll get my Abby back we’ll find a way to get Aunt Alex back and it’ll be fine. I mean we do this stuff all the time. We’re Winchesters, it’s our thing.”

“I appreciate not having to, but how do I get her to come home?” Ben asks. “I’m not exploiting a mistake we both made that neither of us is too happy with. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to say hi.”

“You could just walk in, pick her up, and carry her back home without a word. I assume you’ve been training, right?” Shelly looks over at him.

“I’m not going to kidnap her!”

“Then, tell Tris, if she’s there, which she probably is.” Shelly sighs. He’s always so damn difficult. “She’s Abigail’s best freind. She can help. She’s probably right by Abigail’s side sipping on coconut water. It’s uh… it’s like someone who quits smoking and chews on toothpicks. Anyways it’s better if Abigail doesn’t know yet. She’ll just shut down emotionally, like she did when JJ died.”

“JJ? You mean Jamal? Why were they close?” Ben gives her a quick glance.

“Yeah, I… didn’t want to tell you about her and JJ so I didn’t. They dated all through high school and got serious in college. She was going to tell him the truth about everything. He had asked my permission to propose to her which meant he wasn’t as stupid as he seemed. She told him. He freaked out a little and went to clear his head for a few days. He stayed at his frat house to think or you know, not to think for a little while. He got drunk a one of their parties and ended up sleeping with someone. Abigail found out, they got into an argument, she left and halfway down the stairs, he shoots himself in the head.

“She just shut down after that. Like she took out her heart and just locked it in ice and chains, just existing for a while. Occasionally she’d just burst into tears, thawing a little more each time, but she’s still not really over it. She hasn’t let herself date or even look at men as anything but disposable objects. Finding guys to hook up with is a crap shoot apparently, even with the incense I use with Alice that I gave her,” Shelly quickly covers Ben’s mouth before he can say anything, “So she settled on hiring high pierced male escorts. I don’t even know what she was doing at a bar again. I know she hasn’t run out of money.

“Anyway I don’t want her to shut down again like that, not while she’s in hell. She’ll just stay there and that won’t be good for anybody.” Shelly finishes, removing her hand.

“Why would she want to stay in hell?”

“Because she’s the Queen? And it gives her a lot of work to bury herself in.” She gives him a sheepish smile. Ben just frown at her, more than a little annoyed.

“That one’s all on you, you know that, right?”

“Ben, please.” She tries to give him the eyes, but they don’t work.

“I’ll do my best, but let me take Jeb home first.” Ben of course agrees anyways, but he’s definitely pissed with Shelly. “And give him his voice back, Shelly.”

“Fine.”

“You know she’s fine.” Bree sighs, leaning against the wall as Mary picks the lock on the cabin door. “She’s always fine. She’s always going to be fine because Michael is Michael and will always be Michael which means she is never going to go away. Not for long anyway.”

“You didn’t think two thousand years was a long time?” Mary retorts.

“Not fucking long enough.” Bree looks down as she accidentally kicks a small bowl. “What the hell?” she picks it up to see some dried dairy of some sort. It’s rather greasy.“Cream. Shit. We should probably come back later.” 

“So they have a cat.. That’s not exactly a reason to flee,”

“ No, you don’t feed cat’s dairy. They’re lactose intolerant. I don’t exactly smell at cat…” Bree stops as something flitters past her eyes. Mary doesn’t even see it, of course. “We need to leave.” She grabs Mary’s arm. “Now. We are not prepared for this yet.”

“What do you mean?” Mary opens the door.

“The fair folk are around here. We need tribute. Especially if we want to find Michael. And I need to get some shaved iron and silver glitter nail polish.” Bree starts to walk back to the car.

“You expect me to just listen to you? You don’t care about either me or Michael. I don’t trust you, either.” Mary points out.

“Do we have to go through this eerie time I try to.. You know what, fine. I gave you your warning. Now I can tell Ben that I tried not to let his grandmother walk into a bad situation unawares, which I bet your arrogant wife did. So… how about this, take me back to the hotel before you go into that mess and get yourself killed or I’ll give you to Titania as a present. She could use a new gladiator, maybe a love slave. Do you believe me now? Does that sound more like… oh fuck.” Bree wrinkles her nose as a guardian of the house appears. “Mary. Get in the car! Just get in the car.”

“What is it?” Mary takes out her gun instead, because of course she does.

“Lead’s not going to help. Just… DUCK!” Bree pulls Mary down as the red cap behind her throws a punch at her head. Bree takes sme cheap brass knuckles out. The brass veneer is work through in most places, showing the iron. She steps on Mary’s back to get high enough to crack the redcap in the throat with one fist, and steal his cap with the other.

“Ahhhhhh” It slowly crumples over.

“And what kind of introduction is this?” Bree stands over him, still on Mary’s back. Fortunately Mary realizes something is going on, and does not throw her off. “I know I’m in another body, but this is no way to introduce yourself to my neighborhood. Now behave yourself next time and know who you’re dealing with. Jesus wept!” The thing disappears in a bunch of smoke that Mary neither sees her hears. “What a pain in the ass.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Mary straightens up, tossing Bree from her back.

“There are fair fold here.” Bree picks herself up. “Thank you for not embarrassing me in front of the red cap.” She puts the now visible hat on her head.

“What like, actually fairies?”

“Yes! Now get in the damn car.” Mary just goes to the trunk, grabs a wrench and heads back to the door.

“I’m not leaving without my husband.”

“Fine, you do that. I’ll be hot wiring the car to go back to the motel.” Bree enters the driver’s side and ducks under the dashboard an act certain to get Mary back to the impala immediately. “Shit!” She exclaims as there’s a flash of light. So Mary’s gone. Hopefully because they don’t realize who they’re dealing with and not because they just did.

Something light bumps her on the head. A paper airplane made out of a semi formal letter. Bree reluctantly unfolds it.

‘Sweet Nightingale. Our lady Titania cordially invites you to view the festivities and the start of a new round of gladiators. She trusts you will express your appreciation of the event appropriately in remembrance of your last meeting.”

‘GODDAMNIT!” Bree covers her eyes, “I have to bring that thing back? Where did I even… ohhhh…” She slumps down in the seats. “I left it There. Fuck.” she winces at the memory. How the hell is she going to make it through that place with out her grace? They’ll never give it back to her and she can’t tell Helel or he’ll insist on going after them herself. That… that would cause a war because Helel is weak knows nothing about the faer folk. They really shouldn’t be aware of his current condition regardless or they might provoke one anyway. It was hard enough keeping them out with four fully powered archangels. But now, with only one fairly severely disabled Helel, they’d have no chance.

  
  



	11. Queen of Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail and Ben meet again.

Chapter 11 Queen of Hearts

“It’s a bold move.” Rowena carefully expresses her disapproval as Abigail looks over her notes again. “Giving up your protector this way.”

“Not especially bold.” She doesn’t look up. “I can defend myself and once she’s human, Aunt Michael won’t hold back so much in training her anymore. So she’ll be able to protect herself more efficiently.” Abigail tightens her lips. It’s there. The similarities, the language, the thought patterns, the very ideas themselves. New and old are just the notes her uncle left her taken to a logical conclusion. There are a few insane leaps that were clearly the Nightingale’s brain children, but it worked. Abigail saw the same things in her research, but never made the connections, it all seems so obvious now. She feels so stupid. “Do you need something?”

“Just checking on the welfare of my queen, your majesty.” The witch curtsies.

“You should take a little time to relax. Get pampered a little. Eat good food. Drink fine wine. Find a few beautiful young men to enjoy.” Abigail smiles at her. “You’ve been doing a wonderful job. You should treat yourself.”

“You’re most generous, majesty. I believe I’ll do just that.” Rowena smiles at her largess.

“I’ve set up a vacation home for you in Hawaii. There’s a yacht, a limousine, an indoor pool, cabana boys paid to do little but be young and attractive and available. There’s also an expense account, but it’s limited to five hundred thousand at the moment. I won’t protect you from hunters so don’t murder anyone or let any witches in your area murder anyone either, as most hunters aren’t that discriminating.” Abigail reminds her, reaching for another file.

“Am I not even allowed to defend myself?” her magic mentor sounds indignant, her hand to her chest.

“Not beyond the bare minimum of escaping from them. Stock up on memory charms. You’re creative enough and intelligent enough not to have to. After all someone who’s capable of running hell in my absence, should easily be able to handle such a minor annoyance without disturbing the hunter community, even with these restrictions.” Abigail looks back at her papers. “I have faith in you.”

“Hmmph. They’d better be very young, very attractive cabana boys.” Rowena tsks at her. “You are a very demanding Mistress.”

“I procured you a list of wealthy assholes and criminals, widowed or just philanderous, but also well known for their expensive displays of affection as well as what parts of the islands they frequent.” Abigail hands her a large briefcase. “If you play it right, you shouldn’t even have to touch your account. I’ve also purchased several jewelry stores and high end boutiques and ordered them to lend you whatever you need. If you irreparably stain the dress it’ll be taken out of your expense account, so make sure to protect them as thoroughly as you can.”

“Benevolent Queen.” Rowena takes hold of her cheek and gives the young woman a kiss on the forehead. “Ye know me so well. Now give your Auntie Rowena a hug, There we go.” Abigail rolls her eyes but tolerates the gesture. “You know of all my students, you’re by far my favorite. Send for me when you need me.”

“Of course.” Abigail hands her a key ring just as the timer on her phone beeps. “If you’ll excuse me.” She pushes the desk completely aside and leaves the throne room for the new experimentation wing. Tris is watching the latest experiment. A healing mix chaser to the anti vampire potion paired with an accelerated growth spell makes seven years pass in seven minutes. Seven seconds had a success rate marred by fourty percent risk of severe cancerous growth and death.

Seven months seems to be going well but painfully. Seven days is going smoothly but even more painful.Seven minutes seems to be the safest quickest attempt. It all just depends on the amount of pain the subject can bear and how much they can recover from. It’s certain to be excruciating. She couldn’t bring herself to stay and watch this one. The first seven minutes trials will already haunt her dreams.

“Did it work?” Abigail asks as she reaches the window looking down on the experimentation floor.

“One that was sedated died. So did one who wasn’t. Twenty three of them are human again.” Tris says shakily. “Not bad for a sample group of twenty five.”

“We’ll have to find out why they died, then make adjustments or run a larger sample.” Abigail decides after a moment’s thought.

“No. No more tests.” Tris puts her hand on Abigail’s. “A ninety two percent success rate is good enough for me. We’ll let the other ones run their course for comparison, so others can choose, but it’s time for me to do this.” Tris moves her hand to the window, looking down at the sobbing men and women. A few are recovered enough to eat something despite the concentrated IV. Apparently the process makes you ravenous.

“Tris…”

“No, Abigail. It’s never going to be a hundred percent. This is enough. We’re not doing any more experiments. It works and it works fast. This is what we wanted.” Tris gives her a half smile. “I’m honestly more worried about leaving you without protection than of it failing.” In response Abigail just lets go of her hand and flings her up into the air with a wave of her hand, making her do a gentle figure eight just below the ceiling.

“Nnnnyyyyyooom.” Abigail brings her down for a landing.Tris starts to laugh.

“Did you just go ‘nyoom’.” Tris teases her.

“No.” Abigail lies with dignity and poise.

“You liar. You’ve been playing with Bruce too much.” The vampire grins.

“Maybe.” Abigail grins.

“Set up just one bed for the next round.” Tris instructs the demon in charge who just looks to Abigail, their Queen for her approval. She nods and walks Tris down the back steps to the beds, that aren’t being cleared while one is reset.

“Congratulations,” She announces to the survivors, as they stop on a small walkway halfway down. “Your souls are your own again and heaven is once more an option to you just the same as any other human being. Thank you for your participation.”

“You’re a MONSTER!” One distraught woman screams. Only a few are too shaken and incapacitated to agree.

“You made your choices. You chose to sell your souls and you chose to takes them back.” Tris barks in Abigail’s defense. “You know the risks, you knew what would happen. You knew it would probably so painful. And you blame her? Don’t pretend she didn’t tell you iexactly what would be happening. No one forced you to do anything you did!” Abigail taps her friends shoulder. Tris just steps back and looks away.

“You’ll all be return home once you’ve eaten and recovered. Since you all seem to value your souls less than I thought, maybe this will console you. Thanks to you and your willing participation, those who have been turned into vampires against their will and possibly just some who changed their minds and wish for redemption, will all have a chance to reclaim both their humanity and their souls, just as you have done. 

“I chose you all to offer this opportunity to because each of you sold your soul for the life and happiness of someone other than yourselves. If you still regret your decision I am more than willing to accept your souls back. Now leave and learn to make better choices.” Abigail cooly waves them away to be taken to a better room for physical and psychological recovery. Abigail continue and waits fr them to be executed to the recovery room to take Tris down to her chest.

“They’re ungrateful brats. All of them.” Tris soothes. “They don’t know you. They’re not taking responsibility for their own actions.”

“I’m the Queen of Hell, Tris. The title comes with certain implications.” Abigail waves it off and takes hold of Tris’ arm. “Are you sure you want to do this? We can sedate you.”

“No, it’s alright.” Tris takes a breathe. “I want to go through it so I can tell others what it’s like.”

“If you die, this has all been for nothing.” Abigail can’t stop herself from saying.

“That’s sweet but you know that’s not true.” Tris pats her friend’s head with her free arm. “We can save ninety two percent of everyone who wants to be saved. That’s huge. It’s worth everything. Besides it’s ninety two percent effective. Don’t worry so much. Sometimes things do go right.”

The circles are redrawn, the beds are set up and Tris is strapped into the chair. Abigail sets up the IV’s and the machine to exchange new blood for tainted, one a minute. This time she recites the incantation a little differently so it’s powered by her own soul instead of the subjects. She stays by Tris’ side, holding her hand, and sings her friend’s favorite song. Twice. It seems to help a little. At the very least it provides something else to focus one, and a way to keep track of time.

“It’s okay, Abby.” Tris repeats when it’s all over. “I’m okay.” Though it’ll probably be more convincing once she changes into something less bloody. She was prepared for the vomiting, but still you can only prepare so much.

“Let me...let me see your teeth.” Abigail pulls herself together. It’s not a good idea to let anyone see how weak she is right now. It took more of her than she expected. Tris bare’s her teeth and lets her friend examine her gums. “Are you hungry?”

“The usual amount, but not for blood and definitely not for coconut water. I… oh my god that smells good.” Tris’ eyes flash dangerously at the tray of food being brought over. “Unstrap me?”

Abgail quickly complies, places a clean blanket over her friend and uses a baby wipe to clean off her face and neck. Tris grabs one of the burgers and sink her teeth into it as soon as it’s set down before them.

“Oh my god.” Tris moans “Oh, my god, this is so good. Thank God I’m already disowned. Sweet sacriligious beef. You vile temptress.”

“Actually I had them bring you a grilled chicken sandwich. The Double Quarter pounder is mine.” Abigail reminds her. Tris just growls, holding the burger closer. Abigail smiles and raises her hands in the air before slowly going to take the chicken sandwich.” I’m going to be sending you home by yourself with the cure.” Abigail informs Tris between bites. “There’s something I have to go do.”

“Is it a secret? Another tryst with big beautiful bounteous Ben?”

“No, and shut up. It’s just a suspicion.” Abigail takes a sip of her milkshake. Tris waits patiently, pointedly staring at Abigail over her burger until she continues. “Ben said the nightingale came up with this, but it’s Uncle’s ideas and his voice that I hear in these pages most of all. I need to do something about that. I need to make sure… I need to make sure she doesn’t have him.”

“What do you mean?” Tris frowns. “You think that thing that cursed you as a baby has stolen your dead uncle’s soul or essence or whatever it is he has and locked him away some where….. T save me from vampirism and an afterlife in purgatory? Or to try and get back on your good side?” She tries to think of a plausible reason, because if Abigail thinks so, there must be one.

“That’s never going to happen no matter what she does.” Abigail says coldly. “I know it sounds odd, but it’s just so obviously Uncle in all of this. Maybe this was his price for whatever she wanted him for, but why after abandoning everyone he loved the most would he care at all about keeping a promise to me. He wouldn’t if he actually wanted to be where he is right now. But there would have to be a quicker way to try and get rescued. If he didn’t want to be there, right?”Abigail tenses, wanting to hope that not only is her uncle’s most vital spark isn’t lost for Days but that he wants to come back to them. That he’s reaching out to her to save him though this. But that’s probably nothing more than a matter of convenience if he is.

“All of it’s weird which sounds like something I’d expect from any version of your Aunt Bree. Of course it is giving you an excuse to go see Ben.” Tris suggests. “So… go for it.”

“I don’t need an excuse. I owe him an apology at the very least and I’ll take care of that as well while I’m over there.” Abigail winces slightly at the thought.

“Kicking him out of bed was kind of harsh.” Tris agrees and grabs some fries. “Let me… no.. actually I’ll change and shower at home. You come with me. You know you can’t just go over there. Just ask Shelly to get Ben for you.”

“I won’t be going to the mortal plain. As long as I’m Hell I’ll be fine. I’d rather not risk having to have the talk about my nighttime companions with my relatives right now. I really don’t have it in me right now. I really don’t.” Abigail confesses and rests her head on Tris’ shoulder. “Besides I don’t want Ben here. The last thing I need is the nephilim son of Helel Ben Sahar to show up and throw everything into chaos. Since he’s clearly still so good at that.”

“Do you want me to go with you? For moral support?”

“No.” Abigail smiles. “I want you to go home and sleep and eat and be human then go stand in the sun until you start to get a sunburn. Walk in public at noon, hell, treat yourself to one of my boys. Sleep in the guest room.”

“Nah, your bed’s better.” Tris sticks out her tongue.

“Fine, you brat.” Abigail flicks Tris’ nose.

“Though if he’s really as gorgeous as he used to be, I wouldn’t mind borrowing Ben.” This just gets Tris a dark look. “Is he still a vienna finger?”

“A what?” Abigail gives her a quizzical frown. “And yes, I know it’s a cookie.”

“You know, white on the outside, even whiter on the inside.” As Tris hoped this gets a burst of laughter from Abigail.”

“I honestly don’t know. We didn’t exactly do a lot of talking. He mostly said yes,ma’am and does that creepy declaration of love which led to my kicking him out a white thing?” Abigail winces.

“Oh be nice. The boy was obviously crushing on you hard last time and for some reason never got over it. Probably because you dismissed him with a cold heartless brutality that must have branded itself on his poor little heart.” Tris pokes at her.

“My uncle had just died because of him and his stupidity. And of course, he’d still have a crush what with Shelly make me sound like some sort of perfect little angel if he asked after me, or probably if he didn’t. Though I don’t know why he didn’t get over it because I’m pretty sure I made it clear that I never wanted anything to do with him again by never having anything to do with him again.”

“Until you completely dominated his sexy butt in one of your infamous stress relief sessions.”

“Stop it. That was a horrible mistake. And my fault entirely. I don’t actually think of men as nothing but objects to have my way with, you know.” Abigail scolds her, though she should know damn well, she’s the one who deserves the scolding.

“Well, you don’t seem to remember they’re good for anything else.” Tris points out.

“I just don’t need them for anything else.” Abigail snaps. Tris just takes the business card holder out of her purse and presents it as evidence. “I’m not hiring exclusively women for things because I think Men are incompetant any more than I favor people who aren’t white because I think white people are useless. There’s an inbalance in the workforce still, especially in today’s entrepreneurial market. And yes, I know Equality is officially law now. But still.” Abigail retorts.

Tris just raises her hands and goes back to stuffing her face, though Abigail’s lost her appetite. 

  
  


It doesn’t take too long to send Tris home and get together the ingredients for the portal. Rowena keeps a very well stocked pantry. 

“Abigail!” She looks up to see Ben, of all people, walking up to her throne. Noone apparently felt if necessary to either stop or inform her of his arrival. When she gets back, heads will roll.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” She turns back to the bowl and finishes the incantation before he reaches her.

“Where are you going?” Ben starts running up to her.

“We are going to your thread of existence where you belong.” Abigail steps through leaving him just enough time to follow her through before the portal closes. “You have no business in my domain, Ben Winchester!” She turns and pokes him in the chest. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I did need to see you but not there. You are never to enter my Hell again, do you understand me?”

“Abigail, your family needs to see you.” Ben starts when she does but pauses at her threatening command. They look at each other for a moment. “I….” Ben finally starts to speak first. “Abigail, I’m so sorry. I should have known you didn’t recognize me. I forgot about my friends playing Mr. Potato head with me before I left.” He says awkwardly, sur[rising Abigail as she was clearly expecting him to agree to her order to stay out. But no. Now she has to talk about this right away.

“It wasn’t your fault. I prematurely lit the powerful aphrodesiac in incense form. Mostly because of the hotel room. It’s impressive you actually had the presence of mind to say much of anything after I kissed you. I… I’m the one who owes you the apology. I.. I think I pretty much raped you.”

“No. You didn’t. I didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to do. And you didn’t have me do anything or do anything to me I wouldn’t have been okay with.”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t have done it if you weren’t under it’s influence.” She seems so positive.

“I can’t say that for sure,”Ben sifts uncomfortably, not a hundred percent sure that’s a lie. “But would you have if you’d known who I was?” A yes is too much to hope for, but a small piece of him does anyway.

“Probably not. But you weren’t trying to deceive me or anything.” At least she’s certain about the part that is absolutely true.

“And you weren’t trying t make me do something you thought I didn’t want to do.” Ben counters. “So why don’t we both just cast it up to life going FUBAR in the most awkward way possible and just leave the subject alone from now on.” He offers, though he feels guilty as it’s a much for his sake as hers.

“No, Ben. I took away your ability to decide, and you wouldn’t have let it happen if I hadn’t. Don’t make excuses for me.”Abigail’s starting to get a little angry at the fact he’s not blaming her for any of it.

“Please don’t make me prove it.” Ben grins a little, most joking. He looks bashfully away when Abigail gives him a steady, thoroughly unamused look. “Would you have kicked me out afterwards, if you knew it was me?”

“If I knew, and we had sex anyways? Probably not. I probably would have just called you stupid and told you to shut up. I wasn’t really surprised you’d say something like that when I knew it was you. From what Shelly tells me you’re a bit of a romantic idiot. You did very well though.” She instantly regrets saying it.

“You gave good instructions.” He actually looks down at the floor while grinding the toe of his boot in the dirt. How can someone so tall look so small and helpless?

“Tris says you’re probably still infatuated with me. You really shouldn’t be. I’m not the same as I was and you barely knew me enough to even partly warrant a post coital declaration of love.” Abigail says it as gently as she can. “You only know an illusion of me you’re built up in your mind.”

“So you’re not still loving, considerate, brave, responsible, intelligent, beautiful, fearless, determines and strong?” Ben asks just as quietly, lifting his head slightly. “Because I haven’t been told anything that even remotely suggests you haven’t just gotten more wonderful. So I’ll stand by my declaration if you please.” This gets an exasperated exclamation out of her.

“You’re a stubborn fool, Ben Winchester. At least that’s still the same. “She shakes her head. “What does my family want? As if I don’t know.”

“Your father actually wants to talk to you himself.” The look that flashes across her face makes him incredibly curious as to what she thinks they want to talk to her about.

“I’m a little busy right now.” She puts a hand to her forehead, “If you’d like to help me with what I have to do so I’m not busy anymore, then go get your Aunt Bree and bring her down here to see me in her play room.” Abigail turns to go.

“I can’t. She’s not allowed to come here anymore.” Ben takes her free hand. “I’ll just take you up to see her instead.”

“Wait! Don’t…” Abigail protests but not in time to keep Ben from pulling her to a hotel room on earth. Her body collapses as she goes limp on arrival.

“Abigail?” Ben catches her and scoops her up. She’s not breathing. Her heart isn’t beating either.

“Jesus Christ!” Bree stands up from the cluttered desk, and goes over to them.

“Why isn’t she… why can’t I.. What…” Ben looks up at her in utter panic. “Auntie!”

“Ben… shhhh.” She covers his mouth. “Take a breath. Inhale….. Exhale…. Inhale….. Exhale….. inhale... .. exhale… Calm down and listen. She will be alright.” He just nods at her.    
“Okay. There’s a spell embedded in her essence. Find it and just rip it out, every piece. There’s not need to be gentle as she’s already dead. Start with her arm. Close your eyes if it helps and just feel the remaining energies. Listen for the song that’s out of place.” Bree calmly instructs him.

Ben closes his eyes and searches for the spell. It’s dormant, but he sees something wrapped around her heart, something dark and dormant. It won’t budge but it freezes fairly easily and breaks away from the fading life forces left inside her body. When it’s removed, he crushes it into nothing and scatters the pieces to kingdom come.

“She’s still not…”

“You can resurrect her now.” Bree pats his shoulder. “Don’t think too hard about it. Just think of her, alive and vital, the energy the touch the sound of her. But first, you have to get out of here. The Fae are loose and you’re a hell of a first born son. So go over there with her and don’t come back until I come and get you. Wear this iron ring or something magnetic at all times.” She slips her thumb ring on his pinky. “If your mother asks, just tell her you’re visitine Abigail.”

“Her mother just died.”

“Oh. Well, give my condolences to their Raphael. But that gives you a good reason at least.” Bree shrugs, and takes her favorite phone out of her pocket. “Guard this with your life.” She shoves it into his pants pocket.

“Why…”

“Michael and Mary have been taken to the fae courts. I’m going to get them back, but you are not prepared for the fair folk and you know why I wouldn’t want your mother involved, we don’t need to say it.” Ben at least listens to her. Granted she’s never given him a reason not to. “Go take your lady somewhere safe. Okay? I’ve got this, I promise.” She kisses his cheek. “Remember, don’t tell your mother.”

“Alright.” Ben agrees and holds Abigail to his chest, praying to his grandfather that he can make her live again. Think of her as alive. Her breathing, her moans, her body’s warm embrace of his as if to pull him into her very being. Feeling a little ashamed at his own thoughts, he opens his eyes to refocus. She takes a breath.

“See, you think too much. Now take her home and stay there for a while.” Bree nudges him. “Now.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He takes Abigail back to his house and lays her down gently on the couch. He goes to the kitchen to briefly prepare a note for his parents. His mother is here but she’s sleeping as she still so often has to. He leaves one for Jeb as well, along with the keys to his motorcycle.

“Ben?” He hears calmly from the living room. “I just died, didn’t I?” her voice has the purest tone of I told you so, he’s ever hears, even if he did screw up before she could actually tell him so. Not that it makes it better.

“Yes, but I fixed it. Don’t worry. You’re okay.”He reassure her. “And I’m sorry, but Aunt Bree won’t be available for a while. Are you alright? How do you feel?”

“A little cold, but lighter, as if a weight’s been lifted from my shoulders. Good job, I guess.” She place her hands properly in her lap as she looks around the room.

“I didn’t know that would happen.” Ben apologetically defends himself, though given it ended in her death he probably shouldn’t be defending his actions at all.

“There’s no reason you would have. It was a fifty fifty chance that it would happen if a human Claire Novak was alive and human in the same plain of existence as I am.” Abigail shrugs, oddly not seeming bothered by this at all. “I didn’t think anyone would tell you about the little curse your aunt put on my mother and newborn me.”

“What? No, that can’t be right. She wouldn’t. I mean, I know she was bad, but she wouldn’t hurt a baby. She’s not…”Ben protests.

“Whatever you say.” Abigail shrugs.

“I have to escort you home and stay in your thread of existence for a little while. There’s trouble with the fair folk and Aunt Bree wants me inaccessible for a while.

“Why? You’re a younger brother.”

“I’m not sure a half sister from an alternate reality counts enough to disqualify me. Would you like something to eat before we go?” Ben offers.

“I remember your mother’s meal plans for you. I think we should eat at my place.” Abigail picks up the wedding photo displayed prominently on the book shelf. 

It’s taken in a hospital church with a woman who looks oddly similar to her uncle and yet not. She’s kissing a military version of her Uncle Sam. It’s incredibly strange to think of her uncle being okay with getting married in a white bathrobe with a pregnant belly showing in any thread of reality. The wreath and bouquet are made of snow drops, so she was obviously currying favor with this place’s Raphael. They had the same drive for survival at least.

“Alright. Let me get a few clothes first.”Ben heads towards the stairs.

“If you’re dining with me, you’ll need more than leftovers from the army navy surplus store. I’ll take you to get something suitable when I’ve returned home.” Abigail puts the picture back. “As for a place to stay, you can stay with me until she comes to get you.”

“If you… if you want me to…”

“I have a guest room.”

“Of course.” Ben blushes, and takes her home.


	12. Angel of the Mourning.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Abigail have a lovely dinner.  
> Abigail does not have a healthy reaction to grief, but they're mostly used to it by now.  
> Abigail decides to woo Ben.

Chapter 12 Angel Of The Mourning

  
  


“I’m going to take a shower.” Abigail kicks off her shoes as soon as they enter the apartment. Ben follows suit. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Abigail.” Her father stands up from his favorite armchair as she stops into the living room.

“Hello, Abba.” She walks over and kisses his cheek. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ll leave you two alone.”Ben turns back to the door.

“Don’t be stupid. Go wait in the guest room.” Abigail pulls him in front of her and gives him a gentle shove towards the guest room. “It’s the door on the end, on the other side of the kitchen.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” he almost eagerly retreats, glad to avoid having to face her father just yet. Not that he’s sure how it would come up in conversation that he slept with and accidentally killed and resurrected the angel’s daughter. But it seems to be that sort of day.

“His aunt has stirred up trouble with the fair folk and as he’s Helel Ben Sahar’s first born son, he’s gohing to be lying low here for a while.”Abigail explains simply. “What did you need?”

“Abigail. Please sit down.” her father motions to the chair nearest him.

“If this is about my personal relaxation habits….” She starts.

“No.” he kneels down on the floor like he did to tell her when courage died when she was eleven.

“Who died?” She asks flatly. Raphael takes her hand and there’s a moment of silence.

“Your mother. She got hit by a car.” Much to Raphael’s dismay Abigail laughs a little.

“Oh, you’re serious.” She composes herself. “Is there a problem with resurrecting her? Do you need my help in some way? I’m not really sure why you’re bringing this to me, Abba. You know how busy I am.”

“Abigail. I can’t bring her back. She’s not coming back.” he holds her hand tighter.

“Oh.”She blinks. “Well, thank you for telling me. If you’ll excuse me I have to get Ben prepared for a night out.” She removes her father’s hands from hers. “Let me know when the funeral is. I’ll send flowers.”

“What did you just say?” Her father gets a look on his face she doesn’t remember seeing before. It’s not a good one. “This is your Mother.” he emphasizes, indicating that he won’t be as understanding this time as he was with her uncle’s funeral. Not that it was much of one.

“I’m sorry, Abba.” She leans over and puts her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder at the same time. “I didn’t mean it to sound like that. But she’s in heaven, isn’t she?” She asks knowing very damn well her mother is in heaven.

“Of course.”

“Then she’s alright. She’ll be happy. You’ll still get to see her. I’ll need a little more effort 

to talk to her, but I don’t want to go somewhere and have people apologize or express their grief. I should have to console people for the death of my mother.” Abigail explains trying to soothe him. “You don’t have to worry about me, Abba. I’ll be just fine.” She kisses his cheek. “I’ll be alright. You just take care of yourself.” Raphael doesn’t say anything to this, but he doesn’t let go of her for a good while. She just waits patiently for him to let go.

“We’ll talk some more after the funeral. Which you will be attending. You owe it to your mother at the very least to show your respects.” Her father gives her a firm look.

“Yes. Abba.” She replies dutifully.

“Remember I’ll be here when you need me. No matter what I’m going, give me the word and I’ll be beside you in an instant.” Raphael gives her one last squeeze.

“I’ll know, Abba.” She pries herself away and straightens up. “I really should feed Ben. He has five years of growing left.”

“Go feed Ben.” Raphael gives a small smile.

“Ben. I have a private bath, so you can use the one next to the hall now.” Abigail calls, heading into her room. Ben just snaps himself clean and presentable, heading out to where Raphael seems to be waiting for him.

“I see she’s speaking to you again.” He smiles fondly at the guilty looking young man. “How long has this been going on?”

“Just recently. She needed to see my aunt about something, but she’s busy on a very important hunt. I’ll arrange things when she’s done. I’m so sorry for your loss. If there’s anything I can do.” He offers sincerely, the awkwardness gone from him.

“Just try to look after my daughter. She’s not as alright as she seems. But this time she might be more comfortable letting go in front of you than the rest of us. Someone less affected by this that she won’t have to worry about taking care of.” Raphael sighs and leans back, tiredly against the back of the couch. “She always thinks she has to be so strong and together all the time. Just like Michael.”

“Doesn’t she have Tris?” Ben asks a little confused. “I mean,she’d probably talk to a friend easier than she would me. But I’ll do what I can, I promise.”

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.” Raphael nods and vanishes Ben is left feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He wonders if the angel already knows about the other night. It’s not as if he actually has ‘I lost what’s left of my virginity to your daughter this week’ tattooed on his forehead, though, even if it feels like it.

  
  


“Ben?” Abigail calls out from her bedroom. “I forgot my towel on the bed. Could you bring it to me?”

“Of course.” he goes in and takes the purple fuzzy towel. Not sure what else to do he goes over to the bathroom door and knocks.

“Thank you.” She opens the door completely and takes the towel. “I don’t like dripping on the carpet.” Ben quickly turns away at the sight of her as she walks out. “Don’t be bashful now. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“I didn’t think it was something you’d care for me to have seen in the first place.” He looks down at the floor as she towels off her hair. 

“Maybe not, but what’s done is done.” She draws her fingers down his arm as she passes. “Which do you prefer? Movies, concerts or theater?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only really been to movies and poetry readings at various libraries. I didn’t like the poetry that much, really. I just pretended to because Hara did.” Ben does his best to ignore her until she at least puts on her lace black teddy, a different one from before. 

There’s what looks like a silky denim blue one in the drawer next to it that he’s love to see her in, but that wouldn’t be appropriate to mention on the day she learned her mother is dead. Or any other day, probably. That’s probably why she’s wearing another black one. And black stockings with black garters, which he probably shouldn’t be watching her put on.

“I’m going to wait in the living room.” he retreats.

“Suit yourself.”

Abigail smiles as he retreats from her room. This might be fun. It’s certainly a more pleasant way to resolve the threat of his presence. The same demons who kowtow to her, as she’s Lucifer’s niece, would be sure to court a Lucifer’s nephilim son much more happily. Especially one so easily manipulated as Ben. He’s a much more appealing crown prince of hell for all of them than Chris or Riley would be. He has actual power, more than Abigail could hope to have for her own.

She’d thought he’d stay in his thread of existence and out of her, but no. Not with Shelly interfering with everything all the time. At least that brat will be supportive of a ‘relationship’ between the two of them. Why she didn’t think of this sooner she’ll never know. It would have been so much easier than keeping ever supernatural creature away from the twins and making sure they’re only protected by the demons who dislike them as prospects for Hell’s throne. They’re often viewed as their mother’s children more than anything else. Once they turn eighteen though, who knows what they’ll do.

She could probably seduce and control Chris as easily as she can Ben, if not easier. But that would be the final straw for Riley and probably push her over the edge as far as Abigail’s concerned. She might end up dedicating her entire existence to destroying her and that would be an hell of an inconvenient complicated mess. Besides Chris is nothing more than beautiful and good. Not only is Ben handsome and a good man, but he’s powerful. Besides, she knows she can manipulate him and how.

“I think you were right.” Abigail thoughtfully rests her chin on the back of her hands. “ What you did was the best thing you could have done for them and yourself.” She straightens up and places her hand over his. 

“You do?” He looks at her hopefully.

“Of course.” She smiles. “An imperfect world often requires imperfect solutions. Very few could have done better given the hand you were dealt.” The relief at her approval is plain on his face. He still wears his heart on his sleeve.

“Thank you. Your opinion means alot to me.” Ben smiles at her. 

“What I don’t understand, though, is why you joined the marines in the first place. I can fully understand why you’d have to suppress your powers. You’re not nearly as practiced or controlled as Shelly, but why even go in as a grunt? Why not go to officer’s school.

“How can I learn to be a proper leader if I don’t understand who I’m leading or what they’re going into. How can I send people where I wasn’t willing to go myself?” Ben says, though Abigail’s sure that’s not the whole story and the rest has to do with his father. But if he doesn’t say, she won’t bring it up.

“Taking the servant leader approach I see.” Abigail considers. “Or do you really wish to be a leader at all?”

“I don’t know.” Ben admits leaning back in his chair. “You know why situation. Death won’t be a release for me. It won’t be a reward or a punishment just… I don’t know. Being alive is just a place to prepare for being dead. A hopefully long boot camp before I go off to an eternal war and conflict. It’s assumed I’ll be plunged into the ongoing war between the Leviathan and the mother of all monsters. That’s if I’m lucky. 

“If I don’t want to be either used or manipulated. I’ll have to find or create a new faction to try and take over purgatory and provide those wishing for a peaceful existence the option for it. I also have to be able to defend myself against all the nephilim there, mostly because how many my Uncle Michael and my mother sent there.” Ben gives a sigh and takes a drink. “What I want won’t matter when I’m dead and it certainly doesn’t seem to matter now.”  
“Mrs. Jones.” A waiter approaches the table as there’s a break in the conversation. “Mrs. Vichan sends this with her compliments. He holds out a decent quality dessert wine.

“Perfect.” Abigail looks over to Mrs. Vichen’s usual table and gives a smile and nod to the woman.

“I assume you know her.” Ben looks over.

“Her daughter was in my sorority. She was going to become ineligible because of her grades so I helped her pass chemistry. I suppose she found out. Of course I also helped fund one of her cousins start ups and reorganized it into viability. At best it’ll break even, but it seemed something worth doing at the time.” Abigail shrugs. “Excuse me. I have to go say hello. Wave me back when dessert comes.”

“Of course.” Ben nods and sits there waiting, not sure what to do. In truth part of him wants to leave, go back home to Jeb. A part of him wants to stay and just keep talking to someone who listens and doesn’t pull her punches. Someone he doesn’t have to keep anything from. Part of him just wants push everything away and eat and drink and enjoy her company. Maybe finish seeing the Gotterdammerung with her. It’s an amatuer performance but fairly entertaining. There were a few bit players that Abigail kept looking at, but it was a lot more fun than he thought it would be.

It’s not time for that though. Her mother just died. It’s definitely not the time to think about himself and his selfish desires. He shouldn’t be thinking about her, either. Not like this.

“Pardon me for the interruption.” Ben looks up to see a man standing by the table. “Aren’t you one of Renaude’s boys?”

“No.” Ben can say with confidence, though the nature of the question confuses him a little. “I’m afraid we don’t know each other, sir.”

“I could have sword I’ve seen you somewhere before. Who’s your agent?” The man taps a business card to his lips.

“My what?”

“He wants you to be a model, Ben.” Abigail puts a hand on his shoulder as she returns.

“I’m not a model.” Ben shakes his head. “But thank you for the interest.”

“Really? Because I’ve been looking for someone to replace our first choice, some figure skater who’s been refusing to model for us, no matter how sweet we make the deal.” He gives Abigail a frustrated look. “Of course if we’d seen you before hand…”

“Let me think about it.” Ben politely demures. “If you’ll excuse me, we’re having dinner.”

“Of course. Let me leave you my card.” The man takes out a pen and scribbles something on the back of the card. “This is my personal number. Call me when you decide.” He hands it to Ben.

“I will thank you.” He puts it into his pocket. The man turns back to Abigail as she sits

down. 

“Ms. Jones, always a pleasure.” It is clearly not. She just ignores him.

“A friend of yours?” Ben teases as the man leaves. She just rolls her eyes.

“He’s involved with the marketing division at Paul Klein in this state. His neice is part of the sorority in another college and he takes her to multischool sorority events looking for potential models or fashion trends. He met Shelly at one of them. She does a few shoots every now and then when she needs a break from her normal life. They’ve also approached Chris and Riley about doing ads for the sports division. The twins aren’t ready to turn professional yet and it’d be impossible to keep their biologica sex under wraps if they did. I handle the negotiating for them.” Abigail informs him, just as the desserts arrive. Abigail had ordered one of everything. Ben’s mouth waters just looking at the spread. “Well?” She grins at him, “What are you waiting for?”

“Thank you.” Ben says as soon as they enter the apartment. “I had a wonderful time.”

“So did I.” Abigail replies and kicks off her shoes, putting her jacket into the hall closet. “It was nice having someone I can talk to openly.” Ben understands completely, but feels a little guilty all the same.

“I think I did most of the talking tonight.” He apologizes.

“I asked you to.” She reaches out a hand and adjusts the fold of his jacket.

“Would you like to talk about anything now? I could make us some tea?” Ben offers, placing his hands over hers. “I’d like to hear about you from you. What you’ve been doing both here and below.”

“I’m really not in the mood to talk about work.” She sighs. “But since it’s you, I’ll summarise. I was in hell right now because that’s where I’ve been testing and refining the vampire cure you gave me. I have and now Tris is now human again. Don’t worry about my making deals with demons. They do what I tell them to do, or suffer the consequences.”

“You know you don’t have to be the Queen of Hell just because your cousin ‘gave’ it to you for an early christmas present.”

“I’m not. I have plans for it. I’m turning it into an actual place of repentance, and eventual reform and transcendence. Souls that go to hell are too damaged to heal in the Abyss fast enough to be ready for reincarnation. We have a much better chance of succeeding down here in freeing them from their demons, so to speak. I ended up starting my rule a little earlier than I expected, but thats all.” She goes up on tip toe to kiss his chin. “Thank you for worrying about me.”

“Abigail, we both know what happened the list time I was here. How can you think this would be a good idea?” Ben looks at a thin lock of hair that’s undone itself from her bun and brushes it away from her cheek and behind her ear. “What if something happens to you?”

“I’m not alone. I have Tris, Michelle, and a second in command who prefers being pampered to the actual work or ruling. In case of an emergency. I have my family. Or most of it.” Her voice drops at the end. Ben puts his arms around her, drawing her close. She just rests her head against his chest.

“Come to bed with me tonight.” Ben’s not sure if it’s a request or an order.  
“I think I’ll be sleeping in the guest room tonight.” Ben eventually replies. Abigail pushes herself back.

“Why?” She looks up at him with astonished eyes.

“How could I? You’re in mourning. You’re emotional, vulnerable, not thinking straight. How could I take advantage of you like that?” Ben’s response makes Abigail laugh into his shirt a little.

“Do you really think I’m the kind of woman who can be taken advantage of?” She smiles up at him. “I want you , Ben. Don’t you want to be with me again?”

“Yes, but Abigail we haven’t resolved anything. We haven’t even discussed what happened seven years ago. What I did…”

“I can’t afford to think about that, Ben. I’m just trying to make it through each day. But if you can’t be here for me, then you just can’t I guess.” She lets go of him.

“Abigail…”

“ just thought, that when you said you loved me, that maybe… maybe you actually could.”She turns away and takes a hold of the knob to her bedroom door. She rests her forehead against the door, not quite ready to go in yet.

“You don’t love me, Abigail. You don’t want me. You just want someone right now, anyone, and I just happen to be here. We can sit on the couch on the recliner and I’ll hold you as long as you need to be held, but I don’t think I can handle it again. Even if I didn’t think it would be wrong right now. I know it’s selfish of me, but I’m sorry.” Ben bends down to kiss her cheek, but can only get part of her ear and hair when she turns away. “Good night, Abigail. If you need anything else, please let me know.” When he turns to walk away it takes every bit of his will to do so.

“That’s not true.” Abigail’s voice stops him in his tracks. “It can’t be just anybody. Not tonight. Not for a while. It has to be somebody I can trust. Somebody I know won’t try to take advantage of me in other ways. Someone I feel comfortable with. I don’t want to be… I want to be made love to, Ben. Not just held. Not just fucked. I need someone who cares about me. I know the last time was a mistake and I know I’m being so selfish right now asking for what you don’t think is right. I just thought that maybe, since you loved me, you might not mind a little selfishness right now.” The tremor in her voice, the sound of tears about to be shed, latches onto his heart and pulls him back to her when she opens her door.

“I’m sorry.” He picks her up and kisses her.When she wraps her legs around him he carries her into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them.


	13. Jean-Michele and The No Good Very Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of things go wrong for Chris on his first day back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone's been doing alright this year. I'm American so the stress has been part of why it's taken so long for me to get anything done on this one. That and every time I felt like I could write something, Ben and Abigail would not keep their hands off each other and I just could not deal with that. Plus Riley was just a giant ball of rage, fear and barely controlled violence that I couldn't do anything will for a very long time. Or figure out how to get from point A to point B without becoming a complete psychopath. I'm starting to think I may not be able to. She was much more screwed up by Luci's death than I thought.
> 
> Anyways. Having been pretty much confined in my house for half a year. I'm lonely and desperate for communication so comments please. Even just idle chit chat would be fine.

Chapter 13 Jean-Michele and the No Good Very Bad Day

“Good morning, Chris.” Michael kisses his child on the cheek as Chris comes out of the bedroom. “Did you sleep well?”

“I guess so. I’m surprised I slept so well given I slept so much on the plane.” he rubs his eyes, “How are you doing, mom?” Chris puts an arm around him. I know you and Aunt Alex were good friends.

“We are. I’m going alright. Your uncle having a hard time with the situation, but I think this is going to be the hardest on Jodi and Abigail.”

“I know.” Chris says quietly. “I’m going to go see her after I take a shower. Do you need anything mom? You wanna talk about anything since Uncle Jeff’s back in Ukraine with Riley?”

“I’m okay, really. Your Aunt Alex is just living in my old place now. I can see her whenever she wants. I can also see Jeff whenever I want no matter where he is. It’s not your job to take care of me, Chris. I’m my job to take care of you.” Michael gratefully hugs his child.

“Well, at least for the next few months. I know it’s not my job to take care of you,mom. I just want to . I don’t know what I can do but I love you. I know how much you sacrificed to take care of us and put us first in everything these last seven years. I just want to do something to make you happy.”

“Just keep being yourself, my little song.” Michael hugs him. “Are you alright? You know you can talk to me, whatever’s wrong. Especially with Riley being in Ukraine with Jeff.” Michael ruffles his son’s hair.

“I know.” Chris heaves a sigh. “Mom, do you ever mind us calling you mom when you’re male right now? I know you get annoyed when Aunt Bree refers to you with feminie labels.” Chris reluctantly lets go and fixes his hair

“No, I don’t mind.” Michael smiles. “I’m more your mother than your father anyways. I was the one in the body that gave birth to you two and nursed you as long as I could. If that doesn’t make me your mother, I don’t mind.” Michael reassures him. “When you’re done with your shower, I”ll take you over to Abigail’s/

“No, it’s alright. I’ll take a cab. I just need a few minutes to myself that’s all.” He shrugs and shuffles a little awkwardly, not really starting to leave.

“Would you like something to eat first?” Michael walks over to the fridge and opens the freezer for a few frozen breakfast sandwiches he got when Chris was asleep.

“No. I’ll be making something for Abigail when I get there. She probably hasn’t been eating. When did she find out? How did she react?”

“Much as she did with your father and JJ. Her father’s a mess this time, so again she’s calm and put together. She’s not alone though. She has Tris and your brother’s here. But you know she responds better to you when you’re here.”

“Okay.” Chris heads into the bathroom. If Ben’s here, it’ll only cause Abigail more distress. Hopefully he’s smart enough to keep his distance.

For some reason the ride over to Abigail’s is fairly exhausting. But it always like this when he’s away from Riley. All the energy just seems to drain from his body and he either sleeps or just lies there waiting to sleep. It doesn’t make sense. He loves his sister. He loves figure skating. He especially loves winning. Trolling the press is hilarious, and pisses off their coach. It should be invigorating not exhausting.

And now he’s going to see Abigail. The thought makes him smile. No matter what seeing her or even just hearing her voice, brightens his day. He doesn’t get to see her often, not the least because Riley absolutely despises her. Though mostly because of their schedules. He sends her an email now and then when Riley’s either asleep or not in the room. Abigail just grows more and more amazing and beautiful, and wonderful all the time.

It’s become almost a ritual lately, that when he’s in Souix Falls, he comes over and cleans up, makes her a meal and then they watch classic comedies like zoolander or old kids movies like the Croods on the couch with Tris. All while Riley goes to see Shelly, though it’s usually just Alice and Bruce there.

When he reaches the apartment, he takes out his key and quietly lets himself in. Tris isn’t a light sleeper. Of course it’s pretty dark and cloudy out so she might be up by now. He’ll take out a coconut water anyways. Chill a glass, put a little lime in it. He’ll just check and see if she’s in her room. He cracks the door open, but there’s nothing. Chris opens it wider and there is actually nothing in her room. Not her pictures, or the statue of Kali she uses as a jewelry stand. There aren’t even clothes in her closet.

Maybe she just said ‘screw it’ and stole Abigail’s bedroom as well as her bed, forcing a time share. There’s a note on the fridge. “I’m at work. I’ll be back by three.’ It’s in Abigail’s handwriting. She’s working? He didn’t even know she had a job. And why would she be working now? Her mother just died. But it’s past four so she’s home. Or did she mean three in the morning? The funeral’s in two days. Maybe she’s napping. She can’t be sleeping well. Or at least is working herself to exhaustion. Probably both.

“Abigail?” He gently raps at the door. There’s no answer. The door creaks a little, but not much. He’ll just check and make sure she’s here, before starting dinner. His mischievous side starts to bubble up a little. Maybe… no.. she’ll be annoyed. But annoyed isn’t depressed. The curtains are closed around the bed so she’s definitely sleeping. He slowly creeps towards the bed, takes hold of the edge of the curtain by the wall and pulls. “WAKEY WAKEY EGGS AND BAKEY!” The reaction is not a murderous glare from Abigail, or a reflexive tackle by Tris, but a startled twist up into a sitting position by someone not even female.

Chris just stands there as the naked man pulls the covers up over his lap. The white haired, gorgeous embarrassed man with ice blue eyes and a tattoo on each of his upper arms just looks at him. Is that a scar?

“Chris…” The man greets him with a nervous guilty looking nod that he recognizes.

“Ben.” Chris states flatly and just stares blankly at him. Ben, Naked. In Abigail’s bed. Neither of them really knows what to say.

“Can I… do you mind…” Ben starts, obviously asking his little brother to leave. Chris just stares at him some more. “Please?” Chris blinks and nods and walks out to the living room. Ben. Naked. In Abigail’s bed. Try as he might, Chris can seem to wrap his mind around it. All he knows is that he’s starting to feel angry.

“So, um, how… how are things going?” Ben comes out of the bedroom in dress pants and an army green tee shirt. Shelly mentioned he was in the marines.

“Late night?” Chris asks cooly. Ben nods and looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. “So.” Chris sits down on the recliner. “How long has this been going on?”

“Not… not long.”

“Before or after her mother died?” Chris looks steadily at him with clear accusation in his eyes. Ben doesn’t answer. “I see. Your timing is horrifically despicable.”

“It’s not like that.” Ben protests, crossing his arms, his strong well toned arms over his well defined chest, standing at least six foot two. Taller than Shelly, maybe as tall as her father, or taller.

“No? Because it sounds like you’re taking advantage of a woman who, if not insanely bereft and vulnerable, would never have anything to do with you as long as she lived. Just like she clearly never wanted to see or speak to you these last seven years and proved it by never seeing or speaking to you.” 

“It’s not like that.” Ben says again. “I love her, Chris. I have for a very long time.” As if Chris hasn’t.

“Love her? You LOVE her? You don’t even know her! You don’t know who she is right now. You don’t know what she likes, what she hates, her taste in music, clothing, movies, food. You don’t know her goals, her friends. You don’t fucking know ANYTHING about her! And you think you fucking LOVE her? You haven’t even been here!” Chris stands up, dwarfed by his half brother by several inches.

“Chris…” He’s actually giving Chris that pathetic poor me look. IF all the fucking nerve.

“NO! Fuck you! You fucking piece of shit bastard!” Chris shoves the chair back under the table and storms out, slamming the door behind him. Fortunately for his sanity. Ben does not attempt to go after him.

“What do you want?” Riley snaps. Chris knows he’s lucky she even answered the phone.

“Nothing. Never mind.” He hands up. He must have lost his mind, calling Riley about this. Thank God he came to his senses before it was too late. Of course, as he expected, she calls him back immediately. He just rejects the call. Twice, three times. Four times. After the third time there’s no possible chance he can pick up. Nothing good would come of it. He considers turning off the phone, but if he does that she might actually come back here just to kick his ass and waterboard him until he talks.

“Chris?” He looks up to see Tris on the sidewalk. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. You look different.” He looks her over, not really sure what it is.

“I am. Ben brought over a vamp cure from his Aunt Bree and after a little adjustment, it worked.” She brushes her hair back over the top of her head. “Coming from Abigail’s?”

“Yeah. She’s not there.” Is all Chris says about it.

“I wanted to talk to her. You didn’t stay to cook something? I can finally eat it now and that’s been the first think I thought of in regards to food.” Tris nudges him. Chris just shakes his head. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s not like you to just leave without seeing her.”

“I know. I can’t to make sure she would be okay. I’m surprised at you, moving out like that. Especially now. I mean, you are her best friend.”

“That’s what I thought, too.” Tris puts her hands on her hips, an irritated scowl on her face. “Hey you look exhausted. Why do we go back to my hotel room, order room service and watch a movie.” Tris puts a comforting arm around his shoulders.

“Hotel?”

“I have an all expenses paid suite at the four seasons, little kitchenette and living room and everything.” Tris forces a grin.

“Nice.” Chris works up some enthusiasm. “So why did you leave? Get tired of having such a small bed?” He teases.

“Hey, let’s get some ice cream.” Tris walks over to the nearest store.

“That’s a liquor store.” Chris follows her.

“A damn good one. They actually make their own ice cream.”

“Alcohol and ice cream?”

“Actually, it’s more of a restaurant. They exclusively serve foods made with or perfectly paired with various alcohols and if you like it you can purchase it from the ‘gift shop’.” Tris holds the door open for Chris and walks in after him. “You get the ice cream, I’ll get my stuff.”

“Okay.” Chris walks over to the freezer. Nothing really looks good though. “Tris, do you like moose tracks?”

“I haven’t had ice cream in seven years. Pick anything semi normal and it’ll be fine.” She calls back.

“Strawberry cheesecake?”

“Oh hell yes! Get two.”

“I don’t really feel like ice cream.” Chris takes out two tubs. “Will these fit in a minifridge?”

“I have a whole fridge.” She sounds smug. “I’ll tell you what, go up and order a death by chocolate. Ask for a sample first so you know how much to get.”

“At the bar?” Chris looks back at her.

“Yep.” Tris calls so Chris just takes the ice cream and heads over to the bar.

“Can I help you?” The bartender asks.

“Yeah, I’d like to order a death by chocolate? What size do you have?”

“We have six sizes; Flirtation, Accidental, Russian Roulette, Suicide, Murder-Suicide, and Massacre.” She leans on the counter. Chris just blinks for a second. “Flirtation is this size.” Shepulls out a single serving container. And that’s a massacre.” She points to a large five tiered wedding cake sized container on the bar holding various nuts, pretzels, and bar foods, each with a little scoop. “Here try a sample.” She takes a shot glass holding an adorably mini death by chocolate out of the fridge and a mini spoon to eat it with.

“That is adorable.” Chris gives a genuine smile at the mini dessert. “I almost don’t want to eat it.” But he takes the tiny spoon and takes a little bite, then just lifts the shot glass. Downing the rest. The bartender laughs and puts the glass in the dishwashing bin.

“Size?”

“Massacre.”

“Where would you like that delivered?”

“Tris!”

“We’ll carry it ourselves.” she replies.

“How long will it take to make?”

“Just ten or fifteen minutes. Want a drink while you wait?” The bartender taps something into a screen in front of her.

“Yes, I’ll have a virgin strawberry daquiri served in a long island ice tea cup halfway up with a straw that runs through ten cherries, with whipped cream filling the rest of the cup. Seven little umbrella’s at the top, seven different colors. The a cherry pushed on top of the straw stabbed with as many plastic swords as you can possibly fit. Then cover it with edible glitter. If you don’t have edible glitter then rainbow sprinkles will be fine.” He flashes her a smile. The bartender just stares at him. “If you actually make it for me, I’ll tip you the change.” He pulls out a fifty dollar bill.

“If you actually finish it by the time the Massacre is done, it’s free, but I get to film it.” She counters.

“ Deal.” Chris holds out his hand. She shakes it and gets to work. It’s amazing how fast she makes it as well as how quickly she gets her phone out.

“Jesus Christ, Chris!” Tris walks over and starts recording herself. “Does that monstrosity have a name?” Chris looks it over.

“I call this…. Masculinity” Chris winks at them and proceeds to eat adn drink it in the most erotic way possible before licking the whipped cream off the umbrellas and the sprinkles off the bar, and pouring a small cup of water into the class, shaking it and drinking the remains. “There you have it. The Man’s Man, Lady’s Man, Man About Town, Manly Man, Testosterone challenge.” He winks and blows a kiss.

“Yes!” Someone at the register slams their hand down on the bar. Probably the owner.

“Not for money. I just want free food for life for me and my twin and anyone with us. I’ll even let you put this up on your website if you want. I may even make you an official sponsor if you keep making those Death by Chocolates.

“He’s the one who ordered the Massacre.” The bartender informs him.

“Sponsor? What are you nascar?” The owner gives a confused look.

“Figure skater.” He confesses.

“You are way too fucking tall to be a figure skater, pardon my french.” Someone at the back table calls him on his presumed bull shit. “What are you like six foot certain death?

“Holy shit.” The person sitting with him looks at him, then back down at paper then nudges his friend who looks down, then back up at Chris. “You… you’re one of the Angelo Twins aren’t you?”  
“You’re shitting me. You’re still too fucking tall. You’re going to kill each other on the ice. How do you two even still lift each other?”

“Training, plus we’ve been doing it ever since we were little. You know, trying to get to places we weren’t supposed to get to. We grew into it, I gues.” he shrugs. “What is that, the National Enquirer? What nonsense are they spreading this time. Oh, did they get that fake birth certificate we planted or did that already come out?” he goes to take a look, but the man quickly hides it behind his back.

“I really wouldn’t. Not this time.” The man winces.

“He’s gonna find out about it anyways.” The other one says. His friend sighs and reluctantly hands Chris the closed the magazine.

“Gender Reveal,” Chris reads the headline over a picture of him and Riley skating. “I wonder if they got it right.” he flips to the center where the article is revealed only to the center where the article is, only to stop wide eyed at the displayed photograph, blurred it in various places. But the respective tattoos make it clear exactly who he’s seeing. Gender reveal? That’s the title they went with?

“Chris, are you okay?” Tris walks over and looks over his arm. “Aw, fuck. Oh, she’s going to be in so much trouble when your mother sees this…”

“No no nonononononono.” Chris shakes his head. “Not now.” He takes out his phone and starts texting his Aunt Bree for help. He quickly sends a picture of the magazine center to her as well.

“Your Mis ready.” The bartender calls.

“I got it.” Tris goes over to pick it up. “I already called the car service, so, shit!” She tries to lift it but it starts to topple over. Chris darts over grabbing hold of the edge as the bartender gets the other side. Only a little whipped cream, crumbs and pudding ends up on Tris’ shirt and face. Chris, still holding up the massacre, holds out his arm to take a quick picture of the scene, before getting it properly back on the counter.

“We’ll have it delivered.”Tris sighs and gives Chris an annoyed look. Chris just leans over and licks some pudding off Tris’ nose. Sometimes she hates just how damn cute he is.


	14. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail's leisure contemplation is interrupted by a concerned unwelcomed Shelly  
> Ben goes to have dinner with his sister,  
> and her family and brings Jeb as a plus one.

Chapter 14 Reflection

Abigail just sits in the pool of warm mud, cucumber covering her eyes. First she had to convince Ben, yet again that he’s not taking advantage of her. Then she had to work on a eulogy for the funeral. Now, of all things, none of her spells seems to be working. She almost couldn’t get home. But she was still able to grab the nearest demon and pull a decent amount of energy out of him, refilling her reserves.

That is going to be a problem. Apparently Chris is going to be a problem as well. If he was just going to moon over her, it would be an issue. But he might actually manage to convince Ben to leave, or at least stop sleeping with her which is just as bad. She needs that to deepen his infatuation with her. As it is she may have cry actual tears. Not eye drop tears, but actual tears with the redness and runny nose and everything. Which will mean hot peppers and she’d like to avoid that. Especially since he seems the type to kiss her tears away.

Tris has been taken care of. She has no idea why she actually turned Tris back. She was much more useful as a vampire. Without it she’s just a freeloader and a liability. Maybe she could have stayed on as a maid, but Abigail can hire a maid. Hopefully Tris will be satisfied with her severance package. Half a million dollars and a year in the four seasons, all expenses paid in an extended stay suite with all the amenities available to her.

“Hey.” A familiar irritating voice greets her with a sympathy usually used for people who’ve suffered a loss of some sort.

“I’m in the middle of something.” Abigail informs her cousin.

“Yeah,” Shelly actually slips into the mud beside her and hugs her. “I’ve cleared my schedule and I’m here for you as long as you need me. Whatever you want or need just ask me.”

“I already have one nephilim catering to my every whim. I don’t need two.” Abigail says coldly. Shelly, blonde beautiful, tall, bouncy, infinitely powerful Shelly, pulls her naked mud covered cousin to her her boson and starts stroking Abigail’s hair with her muddy hands.

“I’m glad you and Ben are getting along so well now. But sometimes you just need your big sister.” Shelly kisses Abigail’s cheek. “Someone who loves you and knows you like the back of her hand.”

“You’re not my sister. You’re my cousin and if you want to split hairs we’re not even biologically related at all. So you are in fact, absolutely nothing to me,” this reply is just as cold as the first. She doesn’t try to get free, but only because she knows it’s of absolutely no use.

“When you’re feeling better, don’t worry. I know you don’t mean it.” Shelly just keeps holding her tight, rocking her annoyed cousin back and forth a little singing the little song she sang her when Courage died. This just irritates Abigail even more. Courage’s death was just another reminder of how little her father cares for her and how much everyone loves Shelly, Queen of everything she surveys.

“Go away, Michelle. And leave me how you found me.” Abigail commands.

“Promise me you’ll have dinner with Alice and me tonight.”

“My mother’s funeral is tomorrow, Michelle. I’m expected to say a few words. I’m also entertaining Ben. I don’t have time for a family dinner.” Abigail reminds her.

“Alright then. I’ll take Ben out of your hair for a while and bring him over to dinner with us. Is that better?”

“That will be just fine.” Abigail sighs and relaxes slightly. That was less painful than she expected it to be. Plus she does need a break from his excessive pampering and adoring eyes. She has too much to do. And it would be nice not to have to go to hell to do it. Not until she figures out how to fix whatever’s wrong with her, or at least find a reliable way to cast spells again.

“If you change your mind, just let me know.” Shelly gives one last squeeze and vanishes, putting Abigail back as she found her. All that power and she uses it to do such useless frivolous things. She could change the entire world if she wanted and what does she do? Court monsters for her army in purgatory and annoy everybody. What does it even matter? Michelle isn’t around enough to have much of an effect on her life anymore, thank all that is.

But what has Abigail been doing with her life so far? Rebuilding hell to her own specific purposes is fine. College and degrees, also fine. But Tris, spending so much time and energy and resources on making her most dependable asset absolutely useless to her. What was she thinking. She spend years agonizing over Jamal’s death, foolishly feeling guilt and grief over him. It was the ideal outcome. He was an unworthy choice of husband and a liability. All that time protecting Riley and enduring her abuse when she was the real guilty party. Wasted effort, wasted emotions that she can’t even begin to understand how she even had in the first place.

A life of nonsense and distractions taking her away from her real purpose, ruling hell. 

Behaving ethically, benignly and even beneficially towards mankind while set firmly in her place in the circle of life is just plain practical. And in return she’ll have unlimited powers, a place of respect and authority and a life to live as she please answering to no one.

She’s not stupid enough to overlook the powers and capabilities of her family or the moral code they live by, as flexible as it is. She’s not arrogant enough to think she could oppose them in terms of good and evil and win. Besides long as they love and support her, they’re one of her greatest assets. Hero’s and Angels willing to risk their lives for her and aid her at her beck and call. Even Shelly most likely. Obviously it’s not something to abuse, but it’s there if she needs it and that’s important.

Ben could go either way. If she succeeds in wrapping him around her little finger, he’ll be invaluable. If not, he could be a serious problem. Granted he doesn’t want to lead and would immediately tell her if he was approached by anyone offering him hell. And all she’d have to do to get rid of him would be to call his mother and having him dragged back home, then close the gap between threads. Shelly might have a problem with that but she can take care of that as well.

Now the funeral and a eulogy. Her mother was a truly impressive person. She carved her own path no matter what was expected of her. She found a way to combine her interests and talents in a world she could not escape in a way no one had before. She made her own unique place, revered among the heavens. She even got an actual archangel as a husband. She’s friends with the other two, got partially adopted by the new one, and even managed to be on decent terms with Uncle. She actually got him into therapy sessions, that somehow did not scar her psyche. It’s questionable if it was anything more than just Luci dicking around, but still it was something.

“NOw that ill be a problem.” Abigail frowns. Since her uncle isn’t as completely gone as he said he would be, that will be the ultimate complication. She’ll have to make sure he never comes back. And that Chris removes himself from her and Bens lives at least to a more formal level of interaction. She’ll have to get her plans solidified a bit more before informing her family about Regency in Hell. Hopefully Shelly will continue keeping her mouth shut.

Riley will have to be dealt with in a way that won’t get Abigail in trouble with anyone. That will likely mean having a plan in place for when the truth comes out. If anyone drags it out into the open, it’ll be Riley. Mostly because she continues to blame Abigail for JJ’s suicide. More accurately Riley thinks she murdered him. The truth is that she wasn’t too sure she didn’t before hand but that doubt is clearly ridiculous. She neither killed him or intended him to die. 

Everything is just so much clearer now. If whatever’s going on with her ability to do magic is what’s caused this improved change of perspective it might actually be worth leaving as it is. If it weren’t for the complications caused by people and human nature, life would be manageable and satisfying enough to be perfect and even down right pleasant. Not to mention all the extra hours now that she’s stopped sleeping.

Abigail starts laughing as the realization hits her. Of course. She knows exactly what’s going on. She read about it in the later Winchester Gospels as they’re so affectionately called. And she knows why it happened too. That idiot Ben fucked up. Again. A fairly large fuck up but not as big as his previous ones. It’s just lucky it’s turned out so well as it did. That poor thing is just doomed to be a curse on everything and everyone he cared for.

Now that is a nephilim that absolutely should not have the powers he has. They give him nothing but trouble and misfortune and he doesn’t even know how to use them. It’s like owning a lamborghini and only going fifteen miles per hour. It’s possible he doesn’t even really want them. Or doesn’t yet realize he doesn’t want them.

  
  


“How the hell are you calling me from an alternate universe.” Is one of the first things Jeb asks.

“I don’t know. I just wanted to talk to you and called without thinking about it.” Ben confesses laying on the bed.

“So… you can do that?”

“Apparently.” Ben shrugs. “I have no idea what I can do, to be honest. Aunt Bree says that my only limits are mental ones. Like how a thin rope can hold a full grown elephant because it did as a child and it never learned differently as it grew up.”

“Makes sense.” Jeb agrees. “So how are things going over there with her.”Ben chooses to overlook the distaste in his friends voice.

“I don’t know.” Ben confesses. “I’m so confused. My heart and head and body and conscience seem to be at constant war, switching sides at a moments notice. I don’t know what I want, besides her happiness. What I feel aside from that… I love her. I don’t know what to do aside from not leaving until she asks me to. But I don’t know the right thing to do, the right way to do it, or the right way to feel about any of this.”

“Yeah, I’m going to need more detail than that.” It takes Jeb a great deal of restraint not to speak his mind as Ben recounts the last several days experience. “I see,” Ben can practically hear the things Jeb’s not saying.

“ I take it you don’t approve of the situation.” Ben gently prods for his opinion.

“I didn’t like that woman before, but I absolutely hate her now.” Jeb lets lose. Ben doesn’t say anything. “Look, I’m not saying she wasn’t what you said she was when you last knew her. But in the seven years you didn’t she’s become one hell of a heartless manipulative creature using you for god knows what but its not for your benefit.” Ben still doesn’t say anything. “I’m sorry. I don’t like saying things like that but I hate seeing you being taken advantage of especially like this. You have to see it, Ben. She’s taking advantage of you. I know you Ben. There’s no way you’re ready for a physical relationship. Not this soon, not after what you’ve been through. You clearly aren’t really okay with it now. Not really.”

“This… she’s different. Ben says quietly. “I know her. I trust her…”

“No, you don’t know her. Not anymore. I don’t. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m just not ready to share my best friend with a lover. Especially one who’s still so adverse to being touched anywhere by almost everyone. And not even in a remotely suggestive manner, just casual or accidental every day touch. This doesn’t sit right with me. I just want you to think about it. What if I’m right? What then? It’s hard to think when your crush turns into your lover, I know, but just consider what I said. For my sake? And be honest with yourself about what you are and are not okay with.”

“Okay.” Ben sighs. “Hey, I’m going to dinner with my sister and my wife. Do you want to come? I don’t think you’ve met my nephew yet.”

“You.. you want to have me cross into another dimension for a family dinner?”

“No,it's the same dimension, just a different thread of existence.” Ben says, “But yeah. Pretty much and you haven’t met my little brother and sister yet either.”

“The twins? Did they get into the olympics yet?”

“They won gold in Pairs skating three years ago.” Ben proudly beams. “Unfortunately Chris is upset with me at the moment. Because of Abigail. Apparently he’s in love with her too.”

“He told you?”

“He didn’t have to. I could tell by his reaction to finding me in her bed, naked. So, will you come? For moral support?” He pleads.

“Sure. I followed you in a so called mutiny, why not to another reality?” Jeb sighs, knowing he’d never say anything else. He’d figured someone so put together and capable in the marines had to have some small part of his life a complete mess. He didn’t realize it was pretty much his entire personal life. Granted now he knows why, but still. It grates him to see Ben like this. It’s just not the man he knows. Yet still just as believable as him giving up cosmic powers to join the marines out of sense of fairness.

“Oh, I forgot to tell Hara about this and we usually have brunch on Sundays. Could you send him a quick prayer and let him know I can’t make it this week? His full names Harahel and he’s the angel of libraries and heavens head librarian. So, just tell him about the funeral and that I’ll probably be a while.”

“O-okay? Give me fifteen minutes to do that and get ready.”

“Alright. Thanks.” Ben gives a relieved sigh. “See you in fifteen.”

“See you in fifteen.” 


	15. Changing Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris is having an identity crisis  
> Ben and Jeb go see Shelly and Alice  
> Seven year olds are bad at keeping secrets.

Chapter15 Changing Names.

  
  


“Chris.” Michael gently strokes his son’s hair as the boy lays on Tris’ couch, a comforter wrapped around him. “Riley called. She said you’re quitting figure skating and won’t answer your phone. She’s on her way back, but she’s worried about you. So am I.”

“We don’t need to be talking about me, Aunt Alex is dead. Just let me be unhappy for a while until everyone else is okay.” Chris keeps his face buried in one of the pillows. “I’m just going to stay here for a while with Tris. Please don’t tell Riley where I am. I don’t want to be around her right now.”

“Do you mind if I ask what’s going on? Maybe I can help.” Michael sits down on the floor and rests his head against Chris’

“I dunno. There’s a lot, but it’s just… have you ever felt like all you do is what people expect you to do, all you are is who people want you to be, and you’re just trapped in this role that you managed to convince yourself is who you are but now you just can’t anymore and everything is all turning upside down and you don’t know what to do or how to feel or who you even are anymore?”

“Yes.” is Michael’s soft confession.

“What did you do?” Chris peeks out of the covers, looking at his mother with his father’s eyes.

“I crashed and burned.” Michael sighs. “Your Aunt Alex helped me alot. She wasn’t exactly an actual therapist yet, but I wasn’t exactly inclined to view someone so young as any sort of authority in anything. She was just a really good friend. One who listened and eventually confided in me in return. My siblings ended up helping a little. I took time for myself and explored things and activities and eventually I started to understand myself and start to grow to who I wanted to be. Sometimes I’m sure, but it’s easier to deal with. Talking about it helps. Anything you feel you can talk to me about. I’m here to listen.”

“Okay.” Chris inches a little closer to his mother, and snuggles up against him. “You know I’ve been doing all of this for Riley.”

“I know.”Michael smiles.

“I mean, sometimes it’s all fun and I like confusing and screwing with people especially 

since by now, no one should be confused and upset by stuff like this. I love skating, but I don’t know if I ever really wanted it to become my life like this. It’s all just starting to feel like a prison. So many rules and regulations and keeping up with this whole thing. I kind of actually wanted to do that photo shoot, you know. But with things as they are. I can’t. I don’t even get to do what I want or want what I want or feel like I feel anymore. Riley makes all the plans, and the decisions. She doesn’t even listen to me.

“She’s always angry. I can’t even talk to her about everything anymore. The list of things I can’t say just keeps getting bigger and bigger. I don’t know what to do anymore, but she’s not my best friend anymore. She’s just my sister and I have to take care of her but I just..it’s too much and I’m angry too and I don’t want to do it anymore. Any of it! I don’t want to be Chris anymore, Mom.” I just want to be Jean-Michele. Maybe. But I don’t even know who that is.”

“Jean-Michele is my son, first to be born, last to cry. He just looked around at everything really calmly and curiously taking everything in. Not upset about it in the least. He has his father’s eyes, his father’s smile and reminds me of him in ways no one else could ever know. He loves thick rice pudding with golden raisins and cardamom instead of cinnamon so much he learned how to make it with his cousin and uncle when he was five. He has a sweet tooth almost as big as his sisters, but prefers a few high quality pieces to a bunch of cheap ones. He hates eggplant and red onions.

“Jean-Michele is a graceful dancer both on and off the ice. He’s willing to give anything and everything for the people he loves. He loves music from the advent of the radio to now, and the more popular compositions that have lasted so far. He’s stolen enough music for three consecutive life sentences. Jean-Michele has a steadfast heart and often makes others a priority even if he shouldn’t. Chris is the same because Chris is Jean-Michele is Chris and will be no matter what name or gender my Jean-Michele decides on. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, remember. You are my wonderful child and I can’t wait to see what other delightful and curious things you create and become.”

“Is it… is it okay if I don’t go to Aunt Alex’s funeral tomorrow? I know she’s in heaven. I know she’s happy and content. Besides Riley will be there if I am and she’ll start a fight and nobody will appreciate that.” Chris peeks out from the blanket.

“I think that’s probably true.” Michael admits. “So, yes, that’s fine. Though I’m surprised you don’t want to be there for Abigail.” Chris is silent for a moment.

“She doesn’t need me. She’s taking comfort in Ben right now. He can do so much more for her than I can, apparently.” Chris can’t stop the tears from starting to fall.

“The first heartbreak is the worst.” Micheal gives a sympathetic smile.

“Oh.”

“Take all the time you need. Wherever you want to go whatever, you want to do, I’ll make sure you can do it safely and in peace.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“You’re very welcome. Do you need anything? Do you want me to bring you some clothes?”

“No, I’m fine. Maybe I’ll go shopping or something later. Get a haircut. I don’t know.” Chris puts a hand up to his long dark locks. It would be a pain in the ass growing it out again if he wanted to, though. But he kind of hates the wigs, to be honest.

“Care to explain this, evil twin?” Tris walks into the hotel room, holding up her phone. “Oh hello Mr. Angelo.” She stops as she sees Michael by the couch.

“Hello, Tris.” He smiles at her. “It’s good to see you. I didn’t realize Abigail had managed to shorten the time and cured you so quickly.”

“Oh. Yes.” Tris gives a half hearted smile. “And she’s kind of pulling some irrational protective shit right now and doing the whole pushing every one away crap she did before. If it’s okay I’d still like to come to the funeral.” She rubs the back of her neck, a bit uncomfortably.

“I think Raphael would be disappointed if you didn’t.” Michael reassures her. “Are you alright with Jean-Michele staying here with you for a little while?”

“Yeah of course. He’s always taking care of us when he can. It’ll be nice to be around someone who’ll let me be there for them. Besides he cooks and I can eat now.” She grins. “But you really need to keep an eye on Abigail. She’s not okay. She’s shut down so much so fast I’m afraid she’s going to crash harder than she ever has before.”

“We’re all trying to look out for her. I can start giving you some real lessons. It’ll take a while to get used to not having the same strength and abilities you had as a vampire.” Michael offers.

“It is kind of disorienting. “Tris confesses. “But food makes up for it. I want to eat some decent curry again, but I refuse to eat restaurant stuff.”She wrinkles her nose. “Anyway, don’t worry, he’ll be in good hands.”

“Thank you. I have a few things to finalize and take care of for the funeral. Just call me if you need me, okay, honey?” He gives his son one last hug. Chris just nods and accepts one last kiss before his mother disappears.

“Jean-Michele?” Tris leans over the back of the couch.   
“Maybe. I’m still not sure. It’s my birth name. Jean Michele Pivency. Riley is Denise Sahar Angelo. Dad liked to screw with people too. We were named after two of their favorite people. Mom was very fond of Joan of Arc and my father has a favorite human minion, mostly because he refused to acknowledge she was actually his friend. Her name was Denny which was short for Denise. Sahar is part of Dad’s original name, Helel Ben Sahar. Shahar?I I’m never sure about the spelling or pronunciation entirely. But that’s his first dead name. His second name Lucifer is a dead name now, too. I don’t even know if Lucy is what he chose or what he just settled on while trying to figure things out. It might just be a joke between him and Aunt Bree.” Chris slowly sits up. “I wonder if he ever felt this way.” he pushes the comforter off.

“Maybe. Probably if lore is anything to go by.” Tris shrugs. “You’ll be alright, though. You’re a good man with a good family.”Chris smiles a little at being called a man as she starts to play with his hair a little. “Here, let me make it pretty.” She climbs over the back of the couch to sit beside him. He just nods and moves down to the floor. He knows she loves playing with his hair. He finds it incredibly pleasant and soothing, so he usually lets her have her way.

“Do you really think Abigail’s doing that badly?” He asks after a while. She doesn’t need to ask who he’s talking about.

“I know that if she’s not completely imploding right now, she’s going to have a broken face after an acceptably long grieving period. Since it’s either that or she’s lost her damn sou, I’m sure she’ll be breaking down shortly and will be groveling at both our feet for being such an unconscionable bitch. Especially towards you. She loves you and she would never ever say anything to you like she did in that fuckin emil she sent you. Never. Not unless she’s lost her goddamn mind.” Tris seethes.

“Ow, easy on my hair!” Chris winces. “It’s not exactly like her to treat you like a servant she’s pensioning off, either. ”

“Oh, she’s had her moments. At least she gave me a generous ‘severance package’.” She rolls her eyes. “Oh, speaking of emails and things sent with phones. Care to explain this?” Tris takes out her phone again, showing him the picture of them almost losing the cake with the comment, “When your girlfriend forgets she’s not a vampire (anymore).”  
“Oh, that.” Chris glances over at it.”Girlfriend makes for a better caption than ‘the best friend of the first cousin I’m a blood relation to and I’m in love with’. That’s not exactly how Id want to proclaim my love for Abigail anyways. Though apparently absolutely everybody already knew, including her so... Plus calling you my girlfreind provokes a reaction. Honestly though, after the tabloids it’ll probably go completely unnoticed.” He shrugs.

“If I get any of your stalkers after me, I’m telling your mother.” She raps her knuckles on his head.

“You don’t have to worry. People know I’m never serious about any of this stuff. I’ll fess up after a few hundred reactions.” Tris just points to the notes. “Oh, okay. I’ll take care of it when I’m done. Actually let me sign in on your phone. ‘JK you know Riley won’t let me date.’” He types and sends it before the regret sinks in. “I hate my family.” Tris knows he just means Riley and kind of Ben, though.

“ Care to trade? You’re a little white for my folks but you’re rich and successful, so..”

“Sure if it means I can go someplace I can just stop being Chris for a while.”

“We could go to Jakarta? I have cousin’s there.” Tris offers. “I’ll get to taste real curry again.”

“All you talk about is curry. And never a specific kind of curry. Just curry.” Chris frowns.

“Oh, give me a break. My parents are second and third generation with busy jobs. The only actual indian food they made was curry and we had it every goddamn night. They made a giant pot of it and just reheated it with a bunch of whatever they felt like tossing in. Unless we got takeout. And I hated it. I was so sick of it and then I couldn’t have it and I cried my eyes out.” Tris gives a sigh. 

“”I get the point you’re making but you were turned into a vampire. I really doubt not eating your parent’s curry was the only reason you cried.” Tris just ignores the comment and finishes the twin braids before tying them in a bow.

“Are you using macrime on my hair again?”

“No.Not this time. And in my defense I was really distracted by the beating of your heart.” Tris nudges his back. “You have no idea how happy I am that I can have a drink and be completely and utterly satisfied by it.”

“Probably not no.” He turns and spreads the comforter over her lap and legs before lying down with his head in her lap, his face pressed into her stomach. “I’m tired.” He wraps his arms around her waist.

“I bet.”Tris smiles down at him. “You know, you are the snuggliest thing, I have ever seen.”

“Okay.” He gives her a squeeze.”Can I have a few minutes?”

“Sure.” Tris just sits and gently strokes his head until he falls asleep. She finds it absolutely amazing that this beautiful creature is the same adorable little thing that burst into the classroom with his twin to sing the sorry song to Abigail seven years ago.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Shelly exclaims, her hands on her hips, as Ben and Jeb walk into the house.

“I wanted him to meet Bruce and the twins. He’s already met mom and I’ll introduce him to Dad when I get back.” Ben says with a confident smile to his big sister.

“How long have you two been together?” Bruce asks as he and Alice come in from the main entry way.

“Since basic.” Ben replies as Jeb covers his eyes.

“We’re friends.” He corrects. Jeb’s never sure if Ben’s genuinely being a dumbass or if he’s just being a little shit.

“Best friends?” Bruce looks up at Jeb.

“The very best.” Ben scoops him up.

“Mom and Mom Alice were best friends before they got married and they’re still going to be best friends after the divorce too.” Bruce informs him. Shelly and Alice just freeze, their eyes wide. Obviously that was information that was not supposed to be shared yet. Shelly’s the first to recover.

“What did we say about this, Bruce?” She gives her son a stern look.

“That it wasn’t the time to tell anyone because Auntie Alex died and they might be even more upset and feel even worse and they just need to be let to feel better before we say anything.” Bruce recites. “But Uncle Ben and his friend don’t even know Auntie Alex. They don’t live here.”

“He has a point.” Ben sides with his nephew. “How was school?”

“A lot better after I broke their bones. I still feel kind of bad about it and I don’t want to do it again, but it’s just so much nicer because they don’t hurt me anymore.” Bruce smiles. Shelly gives Alice a brief dark look.

“After you did what?” Ben blinks.

“Apparently Bruce has been getting bullied by three of this one hunter’s boys, a son and two cousins. And the bruises and injuries were not from playing too hard like these two told me.” Shelly says pleasantly with no hint of the fury Ben knows she has to be feeling. There isn’t even a hint of it in her eyes which is a little terrifying. “I understand of course. I can be a little overprotective at times.”

‘Yes, when she found out, which was after her father encouraged Ben to fight back.” Alice begins sweetly. “She went and had an altercation with the woman.”

“That’s not why..”Jeb starts to ask the stupid question that had jumped to his lips without stopping in his brain first.

“No you fucking dumbass.” Shelly snaps at him. Well, now Jeb knows why she’s been such an absolute violent bitch lately. She’s usually just a bitch. Thought he’s fairly sure that she still would have punched him for insulting Abigail. Shelly takes a breath and turns away. “Do you need help in the kitchen?” She asks her soon to be ex wife. “Or something from the store?”

“No, we’re good, thank you.” Alice gives a small but fond smile that’s barely returned. So it’s clear that Alice is the one initiating the divorce. Jeb’s surprised that anyone would marry Shelly in the first place. Especially that they’d get married so young. It’d probably have to be puppy love. After all for all her faults Shelly is beautiful.

“I’m going for a walk.”Shelly gives her son a hug and kiss. “We’ll play after dinner, okay, honey bunny?”

“Okay, mom.” he kisses her cheek just before she disappears.

“I’m going to go with her.” Ben says after a minute, “If that’s alright with everyone else.”

“Of course.” Alice reassures him. Bruce nods too and has Ben put him down. Ben looks over to Jeb.

“Yeah, no. Go. Be a brother.” Jeb motions to him. Ben gives him a grateful smile, and vanishes as well. “Sooo.” Jeb turns to the other two, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hi?”

“Hi. I’m Alice Singer, and judging from Shelly’s reaction, you must be Jeb.” She offers her hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Bruce and I will be finishing up dinner and dessert. Would you like to join us in the kitchen or sit awkwardly in the livingroom until everything is ready?” She shakes his hand with a grin.

“Well, when you put it that way.” Jeb smiles and follows them to the kitchen.


	16. Saying Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex's funeral

Chapter 16 Saying Goodbye

  
  


When Ben wakes up, Abigail is still in the room. She’s looking in the mirror in a black slip considering something. Her hair hangs down to the middle of her back. It’s not all dry but it’s already a little frizzy. There’s a knife on the vanity, where he can see a very sharp obsidian one. It worries him a little. She just braids her hair, ties it back with a ribbon and cuts it off near her shoulders where the braid starts.

“Ben.” She says his name. “Come here.” He stretches a little and gets up, walking over to her. She’s sealing the end of the cut braid in super glue. Ben puts his hand on her shoulder. She just hands him a picture of a woman with a crown of short curly hair. “My mother always wished I had curls like my father.” She says matter of factly. So Ben runs his fingers through her hair giving her a slight curly crop that better frames her face. “Thank you.” She finishes sealing the ends of the braid. “Your suit is hanging on the door.” 

“Would you like me to make you something to eat?”

“No. There’ll be food at the wake.” She informs him. “We’re holding it at the convention center. Apparently a lot of people want to pay their respects.” She takes out a small necklace from a secret compartment in her jewelry box. It’s a small plastic pendant on a black string, a little green butterfly, like something you’d get from those little machines at the mall or the grocery store. He waits for her to say something about it, but she doesn’t.

As he puts on his suit she takes out her dress. It has white puffed sleeves and skirt as well with little Eeyore’s embroidered all over them. The bodice is Eeyore blue. It looks almost like a baby dress, only with a longer skirt. Definitely not the usual funeral attire, but this one he understands. Everyone would probably understand if she had just worn one of the footies, but it’s just not her style. She only ever wore one of them for her mother and only on christmas. 

“I’m ready to go.” Abigail announces as she settles an adorable Eeyore blue bow in her hair. Ben nods and with a thought he’s presentable and clad in his suit. She takes his arm and for a moment he feels oddly like he’s taking her to a high school prom instead of her mother’s funeral. He just brings them to the conference hall. Several people are there including a woman who’s sitting on the floor with a large wolfy dog who looks as depressed as he’s ever seen one. There are even a few doggy tears in his eyes. It tugs at his heart as much as anything.

“Go ahead.” Abigail sounds amused. “I’m going to go speak with my Aunt.”

“Are you sure?” Ben asks. She just gives him a kiss on the cheek. Taking her hand from his arm, she walks off to where Michael is speaking with one of the hotel employees.

Ben hesitates a moment before walking over to the woman and her dog. She’s gently stroking his scruff fur. He seems rather poorly groomed. 

“Is he yours?” Ben asks softly. The woman looks up at him like he’s crazy, but her expression briefly turns to one he’s more familiar with.

“Not exactly.” She gives a small grin and looks back down at him. “He used to be Alex’s. He still kind of is.”

“Is he friendly?” Ben asks. The woman continues to look slightly amused. 

“Usually.” She nods. For a second, Ben could swear the dog rolls his eyes.

“Can I?” Ben motions. She nods again, so he sits down beside the dog and gently pets his head cleaning and grooming him with every stroke of the fingers. Here we go. That feel a little better?” He makes his voice as soothing and calm as he can. “What his name?”

“Fenrisulfr. Rhys for short.”

“It’ll be okay, Rhys. I know you miss her, but you’ll be alright.” Ben hugs the gigantic thing. “You’ll be okay.” When he feels it relax into it, he kisses it’s head and eases out of the hug. “I’m here with Abigail.”Ben apologizes. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s cool. I’m here for a friend, really. Alright. I’m Krissy by the way.” She holds out her hand.   
“I’m Ben.” he takes it briefly and bends to give the dog one last scratch behind the ears before returning to Abigail. As he approaches her and Michael, he remembers that he’s responsible for his spouse’s death. Michael was forgiving to a thirteen year old boy, but maybe he feels a little differently now.

“..reliving her happiest moments. She has a lot of them. Most of the ones now are about you.” Michael puts a hand to his niece’s cheek and kisses her forehead. Abigail just stands there a little too calmly as if she’s completely unbothered by the whole affair. Ben’s almost certain. She may not have broken down yet but she will tonight.

“Hello, Ben.” Michael gives him a fond smile, seeming just as pleased to see him as he was the first time. “Thank you for coming to take care of Abigail. I’m glad the two of you have finally reconciled, though I wish it had been under better circumstances.”

“So do I.” Ben nods, but he’s fairly sure that without that disaster of a first encounter, there’d be nothing like this now, Much less reconciliation. If there really is. They didn’t really talk about it enough. Nothing is hashed out or resolved. There won’t be any chance of something real between them if they don’t. The thought twists Ben’s insides into knots.

“Are the twins coming?” Ben asks.

“I’m not sure. Jean-Michele doesn’t intend to, but he might. Riley… probably shouldn’t, but she might anyways. She and her brother a fighting. I’ll do my best to do damage control if they’re both here.” Michael promises. Though they both know there’s only the hope of stopping the scene quickly if Riley or Chris is determined to make one. Though Riley will be the one making the noise.

“Who’s Jean-Michele?” Ben asks a little confused.

“That’s Chris’ birth name. I guess he’s grown tired of being Chris.” Abigail informs Ben. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. None of this new name and gender ambiguity was his idea in the first place. You probably didn’t notice,but Riley’s the twin in control.” Michael frowns at her for this, but Abigail just ignores him. “I see you invited that one.” She looks over to Krissy and the dog. “He has no business being here.”

“I didn’t invite him.”Michael replies, “But I didn’t exclude him either. This is an open wake. He has as much business here as anyone else. After all he did lover her, more than he loved anyone else. He has a right to say goodbye.’  
“I thought she.. He was just here for a friend.” Ben frowns. 

“She rejected him years before I was born. I’d think that’s long enough to get over her.” Abigail ignores Ben.

“Abigail, when you lie long enough. Twenty or so years is a very short period of time.” Michael puts a hand on her head briefly not quite patting it and walks over to greet a large burly man in a tuxedo. It looks kind of strange on him, especially with his trimmed and decoratively braided red beard and hair. Ben stays at Abigail’s side as she greets everyone who’s there and those just arriving. The amount of angels in the room make Ben feel extremely uncomfortable. Aside from Harahel and his mother and her siblings. He’s never really interacted with any of the other angels. In truth he’s slightly afraid of them. He can’t know which of them consider him a monstrous abomination, something only to be feared and destroyed. He just knows that some do. His mother was not the angel of angels, symbol of goodness and light over here. She was the devil, by all accounts a worse one than his aunt was, though it’s theorized the death toll was higher on his aunt’s side. Just not in angelic lives. 

When Abigail’s father comes, they immediately greet him in what seems like a never ending swarm of angels. It seems as if almost every angel in heaven has come to pay their respects. Abigail greets them all in turn. They all reassure her that her mother is happy and well taken care of and will be as long as heaven exists. She looks completely indifferent, speaking with cordial politeness like an usher at someone’s wedding. It seems almost real for a moment. As if it’s not just her masking her feelings. She really truly is not affected in the least by her mother’s death. She doesn’t view her role here as a burden or annoyance, but she doesn’t actually care. He feels a slight chill in his spine as this.

But he knows better. She’s not like that. She’s just shoving it down while things still need to be done. She did it while things still need to be done. She did it when rescuing Shelly from purgatory after all. She didn’t do it quite as well or as quickly, but she was only thirteen. She’s had plenty of time and occasion to practice. After all none of her family seems to think she’s behaving a little oddly. And she did have that moment where she almost broke down. He’ll just have to stay here with her no matter how long it takes and as long as she needs him afterwards. 

The stories they tell about Abigail’s mother were fairly amazing. What looked like a pagan goddess named Asase Ya told how she helped her sons become men and could not decide between the two of them, leading her to reject both instead picking one and hurting the other Though she regrets the loss of such a wonderful daughter, Alex has raised such a fine young woman even more fit to be the wife of a god. She hopes that this time her hopes will be realized and give Alex some fine powerful grandsons to look fondly down on from heaven.

Bia and Tano, who he recognizes, don’t seem on board this time. Bia just rolls his eyes, while Tano lets out a heavy sigh and covers his face with his hand. Bia does look back and wink at Abigail, who’s taken her father’s arm. She whisper’s something to Raphael and goes up to the podium to say something herself.

“I’d like to remind everyone, as my mother so often told me. Grief is about the living, not the dead. Mourning is a persons attempt to cope with the hole a person’s death has left in your life. That hole may never fully close, but it will reach a point where you can bear it. Selfish people may get annoyed if it takes you too long to bear it. In her words ‘fuck those assholes’. But in my words, if your grief makes you feel entitled to hurt anyone else who’s grieving, you will not like the consequences.” her eyes pass over the room. Don’t use this as an opportunity to compete with or insult her father and other family members.

“That being said, my mother was an exceptional person who won the respect and friendship of many exceptional people. She even managed a cordial relationship of grudging respect and conditional tolerance with my Uncle. He’d probably never admit to actually respecting her but still, it’s a fairly impressive thing. It certainly was the thing that impressed me the most. It’s hardly the most important or remarkable thing about it but if you don’t already know that, you missed your chance.” she walks down the steps and leaves the hall. Ben goes after her.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m angry. Those pagan bastards had no business coming here. Their very presence is an insult to my mother and most of my family. A very big slight to me. The only bigger one would be if your aunt showed up and started flirting with my father.” Abigaile seethes.

“She won’t. She’s off helping Grandma and Uncle Michael with the Fae.” Ben reassures her and moves his hand to his pocket to make sure he still has the phone.

“If you’re looking for your phones, they’re charging at my desk.” Abigail informs him. “I need to regain my composure before they return. Calm me.” She puts a hand behind his neck and pulls him down for a kiss. This time she meets him partway, rising up on her tip toes. “Just brief and gentle.”

“W-what… you want me to…. Here? What if someone..”

“Then they’ll know I’m no longer available.” She runs a hand down his chest. “Besides if you decide no one is going to come, then they won’t.”

“What?”

“The world is what you tell it to be, Ben.” Abigail sighs. “You don’t want to change even that much of it?”

“I… I don’t… I don’t feel comfortable..” Ben stammers and grabs her hand as it slowly drags across and down to his hip. “Can do this my way?” He kisses her forehead.

“Alright.” She sighs and lets him sit down, placing her in his lap so he can hold her to him better. He gently massages her back and shoulders with one hand while singing a soft gentle song in enochian. The melody relaxes almost every muscle in her body until she’s putty in his arms.

“That’s much better. Thank you.”

“I love you and yes I love the feel of your body against mine. Making love to you is a privilege and a blessing but it doesn’t have to be the solution to every bad feeling you have.” Abigail looks up at him genuinely surprised. “Are you alright to go back?”

“I think I am.” She gives him an amused smile that he’s glad to see. He’s not sure he knows what she finds so amusing but she does very well for the rest of the wake. When Rhys follows them to the burial site, Abigail just stops and looks at him until he shrinks down in the most submissive posture Ben’s ever seen. The obvious grief and distress tugs at his heart. It even makes him a little angry that he should be denied this final goodbye to someone he loved so much.

“He’s coming.” Ben walks over to him and puts a hand on the dog’s shoulder. Abigail just looks at him with an astonished almost offended expression. Ben just tightens his resolve. “Love is love. You don’t get to say who’s allowed to grieve for her. Who gets to say goodbye.”

“I am her daughter.” She grabs him by the collar of his shirt, but he doesn’t let her pull him down this time. “And I have a hell of alot more of a right than you do.”

“Abigail.” A hand is placed on her shoulder. She lets go of Ben’s shirt.

“Yes, Abba.” She doesn’t look back.

“It’s alright. Let him come.” Raphael bends to kiss the top of her head.

“Yes, Abba.” She turns away from Ben and lets her father walk her to the middle of the clearing with the rest of the guests. So Ben just walks Rhys over as well. A snake slithers up to them with a golden apple in its mouth. It hands it to Ben and stretches into a well dressed man with golden hair and blue eyes.

“Thank you.” The snake says and takes it back. There’s a beautiful marble bier in the center, where a pale but whole body lies, a look of peace on her face. She’s clad in a white linen shroud and bears a crown of apple blossoms. Ben sees this Universe’s Claire just standing and staring at the body as if half her world has ended. Given his Claire Novak, along with Denny adopted his Alex when she was rescued from the Abyss, he can imagine how devastated she must feel. A tall woman with long black hair is beside her, an arm around Claire’s waist. They’re quickly joined by the snake man after he hands the apple to Raphael. 

There’s a greying woman embraced from behind by a taller white haired man. This thread’s Dean and Sam Winchester are here, looking as oddly youthful as his grandmother does. So are their Castiel and Bree. Shelly is standing next to Abigail now with little Bruce there holding onto his mothers’ hands. Ben can also feel the watchful presence of thousands of angels observing the burial from the heavens.

Michael walks up to stand behind the body, the golden apple in his hands. He waits until everyone’s silent to speak.

“When I asked Alex what she wanted for her funeral she told me to do what I thought would make it easier on those she left behind.” Michael begins, “The one thing she wanted for herself was to be an apple tree. Even in death her thoughts go to others. From comforting her loved ones to feeding strangers, it’s the essence of who she had become. Maybe who she had always been. A blessing to all our lives, we will let her continue to be a blessing to others as she desires.

“This apple is a hybrid of the norse fruits of youth, the golden apple of the hesperides, and several generations of ginger gold. It’s powers have been greatly diminished, but this fruit remains a giver of health and happiness and a better life in its own small but significant way, brightening the light of all who partake of it. If anything could better represent the life and soul of Alex Jones, I don’t know what it could be.” He places the apple in her hands. “Alex, you have blessed Heaven and Earth with your wisdom and compassion. I am honored to call you my friend and sister.”

The ground parts to gently bring her body into itself. When the dirt covers her resting place, Michael takes a knee and places his hands on the ground below. A small growth emerges from the center, expanding and growing, Decades turned into seconds until the branches spread large and wide, leaves unfurling and white apple blossoms unfold and scatter their petals on the ground, then growing into the most beautiful fragrant apples Ben’s ever seen. Michael walks to the front of the tree and reaches up, taking a large apple from the heavily laden branches.

“Let us now partake of her last gift to humanity, accepting the love she holds for us that will never cease to be.” The apple breaks into slices as thin as a communion wafer which go to each person’s outstretched hand. There are a few understandable hesitations, but everyone accepts. Ben is given a slice and one is gently place on Rhy’s tongue. When Michael eats his, so does everyone else. It’s probably the most beautiful ceremony Ben’s ever seen.


	17. Sisterly Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bree looks for help getting hold of Michael's grace and can't help but think about him a little.  
> Harahel has had enough of his big sister  
> Alex gets romantic advice from Bree  
> Bree has a complete heroic breakdown.

Chapter 17 Sisterly Love

Bree shakes her head as she searches through Mary and Michael’s things. It has to be there somewhere. There’s no way Mary’s stupid enough to carry it on her person. If she was, they’re all screwed. It was hard enough retrieving the damn necklace. But not only will she never be able to remove the iron veneer she put on it without Michael’s grace, but there’s next to no chance of any of them getting out alive without it.

It’s not in the truck. There are no boxes or locked or warded areas except for the damn glove compartment which is more stuck than locked. Though it was because Bree was in the car and Mary never tells her to buckle her seatbelt or to go in the back. Mary just said she’s perfectly content to let Bree sit in the death seat.

Shaking her head, Bree takes the tire iron from the trunk of the impala and whacks it against the glove compartment door until it’s bent and and warped enough to let her pry it open. There’s a gun case inscribed with angel wards and bible scriptures to keep her and any angels, fallen or otherwise, out. That’ll be a problem. Fuck it, she’ll get Alex to help her.

It doesn’t take too long to get to Alex’s apartment just off campus. It’s slow and tedious but it feels faster with the windows down. The way the vortex of wind makes her hair fly absolutely everywhere around her face and eyes makes her feel like she’s in the middle of violent winds and hurricanes giving up control to the chaos of existence. It’s even better on Ben’s motorcycle. He left it with her when he joined the marines. 

It was heaven until she tried to race a running fully powered Michael on it and a sudden deluge decided to remind her why she added that alarm to her phone to check the tires that went off three weeks prior and she promptly ignored. It would happen as she was taking a sharp curve, too. The worst part was the fact that Michael was able to catch her before she lost more than the skin off her ankle and elbow, He ruined his clothes in a hilarious way, but it made it more than obvious that he was just letting her keep up with him. 

If that wasn’t enough, the way he grabbed her and put himself between her and the pavement made her think of when she was learning to use her wings. Michael would end the lessons by flying with her back to the ground, holding Bree up so that she could feel like she was actually flying kind of by herself. Even the way he curved his wings up to protect her from debris echoed the sharp dives that thrilled Bree so much and freaked out their brothers. So not only did she fall for Michael’s trick, her, The fucking devil was tricked by fucking Michael of all angels, but they were actually having fun together because of it. The whole thing just fucked her up so severely that she didn’t feel even close to right again until she set fire to absolutely everything Michael owned using the hotel’s entire supply of holy oil. In the middle of the empty pool. It was the most horrible thing that’s happened to her since she got rid of the Mark.

“Hey, Kiddo, you in?” Bree knocks on the door. There’s no response so she takes out the spare key and lets herself in. The blanket wrapped gunbox is plopped down on the counter and the search for something sweet begins. There’s nothing in the cupboard so it’s probably in the secret compartment under her bed attached to her head board. 

She’s a little surprised, though, to find Alex asleep curled up against Harahel’s vessel. Especially since they’re not only fully clothed and on top of the covers, they’re fairly completely entwined with each other everywhere except the parts that would normally be. Like there’s an invisible dog curled up between their respective hips.

“Don’t disturb her.” It’s Harahel,even more oddly. Though it makes a little more sense. Harahel would be the only one she could make herself this vulnerable to without having just given in entirely to a carnal situation. 

“For shame, Harahel,” Bree tsks him. “You of all angels, being caught in bed, entwined with a human girl in love’s tender embrace.” She puts a hand to her heart imitating shock. Harahel ignores her insinuation.

“She’s been having nightmares the last several days that keep her from sleeping and the occasional hallucinations of her life that aren’t her life.”

“Oh. That’s probably because the other Alex died over in the other thread and she’s made of other her. I mean probably nothing is left of over there, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there souls weren’t a little connected because of it. You know, Kind of like that two particles that move exactly the same no matter how far they’re separated. And identical twins. But not even slightly like that at all.” Bree leaves the door open, heading over to the couch. 

“Oh, just to let you know, Ben’s home from the marines. He was given a dishonorable discharge for stopping a war crime, so he’s kind of torn up about it. On the plus side, the whole death of Abigail’s mother thing means he’s distracting himself taking care of Abigail and hiding from a serious conversation with his mother about it. His cult followed him home and his high priest refuses to leave so they weren’t able to really talk about the whole marines thing in general.” She shrugs. Harahel does not react to the cult comment. She must be losing her touch. That or Harahel is just completely out of fucks for anything she has to say about anything regarding two of his three great loves, which is interesting. Not interesting to really care about, but interesting. Now if Nathaniel was here it might have potential. Granted then it would wake Alex up, and she needs her sleep.

“He’s going to be staying there a while because the fae are fucking around here for some reason. I don’t even really care why at the moment. But he’s a hell of a first born for them to set their sights on. They’ve already taken a few things I need to get back and I need to get the iron coating off of this so I can return it to Titania without starting a war. And I mean completely off without even a molecule of it anywhere on this. I have no idea how to do that without my grace.” She holds up the ornate necklace hanging around her neck, under her shirt. Safest place to store it right now. “And I can’t ask Michael because he’d involve himself and I know you know about the fae court and how helpful she would be in that situation.”

“I can take care of that for you.” Harahel gently removes himself from Alex’s side and walks over. He takes hold of the necklace and passes his hand over it, the iron sliding off like water off a duck’s back into a small box. 

“Well haven’t your talents grown.” Bree raises an eyebrow at this.

“Not really, repairing, maintaining, and reproducing older more valuable books involve working with silver and gold leaf regularly. Iron isn’t different enough to require more skill.”

“Whatever. I do need her awake though. There’s something in an angel proof box that I need to open so I can safely bring it to Michael.” Bree tells him as Alex probably would at some point anyways. Harahel doesn’t ask what’s in the box, he just stares at the graceless archangel before him. “What?”

“You’re not an angel right now. You’re human.” The angel says slowly. “You have absolutely no need to wake Alex for this.”

“Well, less of a need, but I do still need her.” Bree sighs and heads to the fridge. Maybe Alex has some fruit or juice or something. She’s starting to get that annoying lightheadedness that means her blood sugar’s low. Harahel’s there before she can open the door, his hand holding it shut.

“Stop eating Alex’s food. She doesn’t have much and you never replace anything.”

“First you know Claire and Denny provide for her when she sets her pride aside enough long enough to ask. And secondly I don’t have fucking time to go rob somebody before I go into hypoglycemic shock. Okay?” She snaps at him. “And don’t tell me to buy my own food and take better care of myself. They don’t let me have any fucking money.”

“No they don’t give you money. You could always get a job. You don’t have to rob people.”

“I do if I have to go buy my own shit right this second. Listen Marian, I’m not fucking around right now. I need some goddamn sugar, so unless you feel like explaining to Alex why I collapsed in her apartment you will let me get some simple carbs to eat like she always does.” Harahel disappears and then reappears suddenly with a ripe banana. “The fuck?”

“Eat it.”

“That’s not…”

“Eat it or leave this house and figure something out yourself.”

“Excuse me?” Bree’s not sure how to respond to this. 

“Or busk, search for lost coins, beg on the street if you have to. You are not taking one more thing from our woman.. This woman.” Harahel corrects himself. Before she can figure out what the hell to say, or even which part to say something about, the impudent little angel continues. “ There are several prostitutes on the corner the next street over, you should join them.”

Bree just stares at him in amazement. This kind of undisguised contempt and utter lack of fucks to give were amusingly the extent of this particular angels ‘corruption’ when he was consumed by darkness. Now that’s he’s well free of it, that particular side of him almost never rears it’s ugly head unless someone had just put a loved one in serious danger. The suggestion would have been amusing if Harahel wasn’t very well aware how hard Bree is trying to remain celibate until Raphael decides to come back. If he decides to come back. If he hasn’t stopped loving her. That it might be entirely possible that Bree might die in the fucking street trying to do that doesn’t even seem to phase the angel. Clearly something has happened that has pushed his little brother to the point that he’s willing to get as close to cold blooded murder as he’ll ever probably get. She definitely does not have the time to deal with that.

“Good suggestion.” Bree ties the front of her tshirt into a knot in between her breasts and shoves the waist of her jeans as far down on her hips as she can without enter black bar territory. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” She winks and grabs that stupid fedora Undhi’s taken to wearing off the coat rack. “I’ll bring this back, too.” Harahel doesn’t reply. Apparently a hat is a small price to pay to get her to leave.

About two am she comes back with a slightly fuller purse and twenty bags of take out. Ale is sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket with a cup of hot chocolate inher hands. She is of course, leaning against her angel.

“Rob a Royal Farms?” Alex jokes.

“Nope.” Bree puts the bags down. “I went to that bar that’s busy and has the projectile open mic night, you remember the one. I signed up and sang for tips or leftovers.” True enough, but she told the owner the situation. He didn’t believe her about the low blood sugar and told her to sing for her supper if she wanted but no freebies. She got her some apple juice really fucking fast when Bree started shaking so hard she dropped the mic and nearly collapsed halfway through the second song, though. “I sang until they closed and most of the food she got were freshly ordered for her. “The twenties were probably drunken mistakes, but I got so much food. So that’s cool. Hungry?” She asks Alex who nods.

“Thanks.”

“So I need to talk to you.” Bree sits down next to her, then glances over to Harahel who she very much wants to stab repeatedly at the moment. 

“Okay.” Alex nods oblivious to her hints. Well, she does look exhausted.

“Privately.” Bree adds.

“Could you let us talk alone?” Alex asks Harahel.

“How long?” He glares at Bree. “You’ve been here a while and I know you have things to do. So I guess good bye for today at least. I’ll be fine.” She hastily reassures them. Harahel hesitates a moment but just gives her a hug and kiss on the forehead before disappearing. “So what’s up?”

“There’s a big fucking problem. Michael and Mary have been taken by fae. I can’t ask Helel for help because even if he wasn’t practically crippled he does not know how to deal with the fae court and all their rules and customs and will probably end up starting a way.” Bree confesses. “I have to go save them but there’s no possible way I can do that without one of us having our grace.”

“Is that what’s in the box? An angel’s grace?” Alex nods to the counter. 

“Um, yeah, Michael’s.”

“You want me to help you get to Michael’s grace. Because you’re telling me he and Mary were taken by fae into their own realm and you need to go after them.” Alex repeats. “To rescue them?”

“If they were not in deep shit when taken, they will get themselves in deep shit. I mean Michael’s just so.. Michael and Mary’s just basically a human version of Michael. So they need all the rescuing.” Bree gives a sigh and leans back on the couch half slumping over. “Titania also wants her necklace back, which either means she’ll be angry with me or Oberon will be angry with me if I don’t do this right and I definitely need to at least enter fully powered. They’ll notice if I go in like this. Especially since I’ll have to alter my eating patterns and behavior patterns. The treaty we have keeping them largely out of our realms will be essentially worthless.”

“You have a treaty with the Fae court to leave humanity alone?”

“Pretty much. There’s enough wiggle room for a little mischief on their part, but way too many of them play way too rough. And would cause untold devastation. The way things are, any who come over to fuck with humanity, are completely on their own. No one will come to save them and they are at the mercy of anyone and everyone who lives in this plain of existence, myself especially. There are rules and such controlling and limiting entry, with exceptions for the occasional wild hunt. It took a couple of them being at my mercy before the rest of the fae understood how things were going to be. I’d occasionally check in on some of the ones who pop in when I felt bored. But not often enough that they’d get suspicious that I haven’t these past seven years.”

“You’ve been protecting humanity from them? This whole time? Are they worse than you were?”

“Yes or mostly no, depending on who you ask, but there are a lot more of them. And they fight each other. Why do you look so surprised. I’ve told everyone repeatedly how much I love and always have loved humanity. I don’t want anything to happen to you guys.”

“Right. I mean I know that,” Alex frowns, considering. “I mean, you know, like they’re your favorite play thing and you don’t want other people breaking your things. But I never thought your affection for humanity was to the extent that you’d be proactive about it. You’re not really the type to have a plan for things.”

“I know right? That shit’s exhausting.” Bree gives a frustrated groan. “I have to be in the mood to deal with Fae shit, you know? And I’m really not. But I fucking have to because some little shits are acting up. Possibly on behalf of big shits. I”m so freaking tired right now, Alex, you have no idea.”

“Huh, Well, I guess that’s life for you. Sometimes you have to just put up with one asshole because it’s keeping away an even bigger asshole. And here you were keeping away two.” Alex comments still stuck on Bree’s purposeful protection of human.

“Nyeh, whatever. I dunno.” Bree shrugs, and looks away. “This is going to be such a pain in the ass.”

“So, they’re still alive, right?” Alex rubs her cheek

“Oh yeah. They’ll at least keep them alive long enough for me to get there, since they’re associated with me.”

“So they’ll ransom them off to you?”

“What? No. of course not. It’s so I can play with them, too. It won’t be too bad for them. They’re way too strong and beautiful to be killed or tortured straight off anyways. It wouldn’t provide anyone any real satisfaction. It’s too boring and they love to be entertained, so my guess… gladiators or sex slaves depending how good a fight they put up. Possibly both.” Bree considers. “Hmm. I suppose it all depends on how well my Lord and Lady Oberon and Titania are getting along. Unfortunately neither Michael or Mary are much good in the way of skillfully diplomatic manipulation. They’re too proud and stubborn. Think either way they’ll end up int he gladiatorial ring to be honest. And that’ll give us more time at least.”

Alex watches as a muted look of worry crosses Bree’s face. She knows it’s not about the fighting part and both of them are good enough fighters. Maybe not about the torture either. She doesn’t care about Mary but even if she did, Mary’s been through alot of things. Maybe all the things. But so far the only thing that’s come close to broke her even a little was the death of her son. The first time, anyway. But Michael. There are things he hasn’t been through, even if what he did go through was terrible. He won’t know how to deal with it. If Bree’s worried about them, it’s Michael she’s worried about.

“It’s okay to care about your sister, you know.” She says gently. Bree looks annoyed.

“I’m worried about me, not them. I’ll have to take Michael his grace by using it myself and this is not a vessel made for that much power. I have no frickin’ idea how long I’ll even have before it destroys me. I’m only even trying to rescue them for Ben’s sake and Michael for my brothers. Honestly I’d be just as happy if they died before I could save them. But I have to actually try or they’d never forgive me.” Bree kicks the table. “Of course, if you decide to tell on me and Helel goes and fucks things up and gets them killed, I guess that’s just as well.” Bree glares at Alex.

“It’s okay to love her, Bree.”

“Never going to happen sweetie,” Bree replies with a flat grin, almost cutting her off with the speed of her reply. “Of course, if you manage to steal him away from Mary, I promise to give it the old college try.”

“Either drunk or hung over, living off pizza and ramen, and from noon to four am?”

“I do have standards.” Bree nods. Alex just gets up and picks up the box. It opens for her fairly easily. Inside is a bible sealed shut with precious moments stickers and rosaries. 

“Seven years ago when I mysterious turned back into a vampire. It wasn’t the weird bullshit reason they ended up believing. It was because you spiked my v8 with vampire blood.”

“Yeah.” Bree replies after a second and leans back on the sofa, butting a heel up on the coffee table. “How did you know?”

“Because I’m not an idiot. I already knew that you were befriending me to make me less likely to try and seduce your husband when he came back. I wasn’t exactly sure you went this far, until I heard you talking to Ben about maybe helping to look into finding a cure for Abigail’s friend. You’re lucky, I’d planned on just ripping your throat out and devouring your blood for my first meal. I was only even hesitating about it because of Harahel almost dying trying to rescue me and the obligation Undhi said I had to be a person who was worth his sacrifice.”

“So, you knew about that this entire time?” Bree looks over at her.

“Yup.”

“Let me guess. Harahel found out very recently.”

“Yeah. I got drunk and accidentally blurted it out when defending you when he said you weren’t good for me and didn’t even care about me as a person at all. That you just wanted to get close to me so you’d be in the position to get rid of me somehow if I seemed like a romantic threat when Raphael came back. I made him promise not to say anything or do anything because I did not need the drama. At least he said that’s what I said in the morning, but I agree with drunk me. I’m not going to go after your husband, Bree. I’ll need so much therapy alone to even be able to look at a guy that way and I just don’t care enough to do that. I mean, I’m probably just broken but it’s not exactly the part of my life causing me problems. And it’s the last thing I need to work on. I certainly wouldn’t work on it by trying to seduce my best friends husband. Especially when I know they love each other more than life itself.” She nudges Bree. “I think you know me better than that. And I have too much self preservation than to try even if I hated you instead.”

“Love is stupid and it makes you stupid. But honestly, if he’s not with me, I think I’d be okay with him being with you. You’d be good to him and appreciate him. Not as much as me, but you wouldn’t be as bad to him as me either.”

“Thanks but I’m still not interested in your husband even little.”

“I can’t believe you’re in love with Harahel.” Bree straightens up, just outright offended. “He’s boring! And has no sense of humor and is just this pathetic little thing who can’t even really fight. You’ll never get him to have sex with you, even when you’re ready. You’ll never have all of his attention. And just Jesus!”

“Oh relax, Bree. Though you know that all the reasons you hate him are reasons why he’s a wonderful person, even the ones that you haven’t listed because you know they are just petty and jealous and plain wrong. I don’t care about this crap. I just want to be human again for a while. Hell I’m tempted to kill myself just to prevent the possibility of being sent back to purgatory again.” Alex sighs and rests her head back on the sofa. Bree doesn’t say anything for a few minutes.

“Harahel’s kind of in love with you back.” Bree sighs. “Of course, I’m pretty sure Undhi is too, which makes you the first two bodied love triangle.”

“Fuck.” Alex winces.

“Problems with Undhi?”

“Yeah. No. I may have kissed Undhi. He comes to visit sometimes when Hara’s in heaven. I think of really like him, too. I”m not sure if I kissed him because Hara wasn’t there though or because I hoped he was. Things are kind of weird right now with us. This is not something I’m even close to ready to discuss or think about yet. I mean I just became fully human again.”

“Well, you are aware of this little thing called polygamy, right? The idea of having to pick one person to love is not universal and was never a religious stipulation in the first place. Hell marriage and sexual relationships had nothing to do with love when they were created. It was all about property and alliances and children and financial stability, social standing, pretty much everything but love.”

“I know.”

“What I’m saying is you can have them both. And given they only have one physical  body between them it probably doesn’t even technically count as polygamy either. While the thought of harahel having to somehow compete with his own vessel for you is fucking hillarious, I think I know them well enough to know that this will probably be the only way that all three of you won’t end up with your heart broken by one and having to break the heart of another one. That should be kind of awesome, too, but it’s somehow not. So don’t let modern conventional thinking take something away from you. You don’t have to be be monogamous, you don’t have to be committed, you don’t have to have sex with a person in order to truly love them either. It doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to be. It doesn’t even have to be defined or labeled. Concepts exist even before they’re included in language. Even if they’re kind of nebulous. Love is the most nebulous all encompassing chaotic multifaceted concept of anything. To misquote Fox’s Methuselah, Love is the cause of and solution to all of life’s problems.”

“ You’re really different than you used to be, Bree.” Alex runs her hand over the bible. 

“ You think so.” Bree rolls her eyes and straightens up a little. “I need to check my blood sugar. Hold on.” 

“Did you ever think that maybe you should try loving Michael? Michael clearly loves you,”

“Fuck off! For both things you just said.”Bree heads to the fridge. “I’m trying to be supportive and shit and you come at me with this? Today? NOW?”

“No, look. Michael is always taking making sure you have something to eat. That you have enough insulin. He makes sure you get to your appointments, get enough exercise, do not have access to harmful illegal drugs, never get stranded anywhere, get out of the house at least three times a week. He even makes sure that you’re still able to adequately defend yourself. Even without your grace. He’s nice to you. Half of your bitching about him is about him being nice and reaching out to you over and over and over again.”

“That’s because none of that shit means ANYTHING.” Bree sets herself up at the counter. “She’s just doing it because she thinks she’s supposed to. It’s for her pride and reputation not because she actually genuinely cares about me. I don’t care about her goddamn love but I fail to see how I should be grateful for being used to get her goed reputation back up to snuff and win brownie points with our brothers. In fact I hope at least one of them is already dead by the time I get there. I don’t care which because I’d love to see her and mary lose the person they love more than anything as much as I’d love to see them dead and It’s literally impossible to get both from both of them.”

“Okay, first off.” Alex challenges, because she feels like being a little shit tonight, apparently. “Becoming friendly with you does absolutely nothing to improve a person’s reputation. Secondly Raphael’s not here to win brownie points with and Helel is still not over the two of you each trying to murder her. If Michael is being nice to you was going to fix that, it would have by now. So it’s not… you need to accept that Michael loves and cares about you. Stop trying to pretend that’s not the case just so you can pretend you’re not just rejecting her because you think you’ll never be good enough to ever really have anyone’s love ever again.”

“Excuse me? I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re talking to, but I know you have no clue who you’re talking about. Have you even actually met Michael?”

“Yes. He comes over all the time to talk to me about this and try to make sure you’re really doing as okay with Raphael’s absence as you’re trying to seem. He talks to me about this stuff all the time. I mean he can’t talk to his wife about it. He can’t talk to his best friend about it or his siblings or literally anyone else but me and no he doesn’t know about the vampire thing.”

“The fuck?”

“He’s also been teaching me self defense and things like that. Occasionally we do stuff together. It’s no big deal. But the point I’m trying to make is that yes it is genuine love and affection. Michael has been trying to make things right between you or at least take care of you the way he thinks a little sister should be taken care of. At least that’s how he puts it.”

“You little fucking TRAITOR!” Bree turns to her.

“Oh shut up! Even if I had by any stretch of the imagination actually betrayed you much less as badly as you’re trying to imply, you turned me back into a vampire so you could use me as a fucking human tests subject. At the very worst, we’re even, now.” Alex throws the remote at her.

“Fine. Whatever, bitch. So you’re not going to open it for me. You could have just said so and not wasted either of our fucking time.” Bree kicks the near end of the coffee table, knocking a few take out boxes off in the process. “Go ahead. Tell Helel. I’ll just tell her the same shit I told you and he won’t believe me either and the world will go to fucking hell. But I don’t care but I’ll finally get to say I fucking told you so before I’m hunted down and murdered by my enemies in the fae court.”

“For god’s sake Bree, will you sit the fuck down, you paranoid little shit?” Alex gets up and pulls her friend back down to the couch. “Did you get your blood shit squared away?”

“Yes I got my fucking blood shit squared away.”

“Then shut up and listen. I’m going to make a deal with you. I won’t say anything to Helel or any other angel about any of this. AND I will also open this for you if you need me to, on one condition.” Alex starts to fiddle with one of the rosaries.

“If it has anything to do with being nice to your little librarian of love, that’s never going to

Happen. The extent of my niceness in regards to that little winged sycophant has been stretched farther tonight than It ever has and ever will be again.”  
“Hold this.” Alex takes the bible out of the gun box and holds it out to her. Bree just looks at her. “Hold this for a minimum of five minutes and I’ll do it.”

“Okay, that’s just fucking mean.”

“Sorry, but those are the terms.”

“Those two are NOT worth that.” Bree crosses her arms and turns away.

“Alright. You can stay here while I have Harahel take…” Alex doesn’t even get to finish before Bree snatches the bible from her, very obviously smacking Alex with it on purpose in the process. Alex rubs her chin and looks over to Bree. 

She’s just staring at the bible in her hands, her face ghostly white. Beyond that she’s the stillest Alex has ever seen her. It’s a little terrifying.

“Bree?” Alex asks, doubt crawling in her mind. “Bree, let go. It’s okay. It’s okay, just let go. I’m sorry. I didn’t….”

“No.” Bree’s voice is trembling a little. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt. Not even a little bit. It’s probably not a real bible, or something. Just a fake or….”

“Do think Mary would rely on a bluff to keep Michael’s grace safe from you or other evil things?” Alex asks a little unsure.

“No. That’d be both stupid and unneccesary.” Bree slowly shakes her head. “Only a fallen angel would even need a fake bible for any..” She quickly pulls the rosaries off and the stickers and rips opens the fake bible to reveal… a cut out space big enough to hold the container of Michael’s Grace, filled with the container holding Michael’s Grace. “ The fuck?”

“It isn’t a fake bible.” Alex points to the few pages that would have concealed the hole should Bree have opened it like a normal human being. 

“It’s got to be.”

“Bree.”

“There’s NO way it’s that fucking easy!” She struggles with the urge to hurl the entire thing across the room. “It’s fake. The whole thing is fake. I haven’t made up for ANYTHING!” Alex grabs it from her before she can throw it. “I’m still doing bad shit and I’m not sorry and I’m not going to stop and I hate them and I hate her and I hate YOU and I don’t FUCKING CARE! I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR ANYTHING!” She screams into nothing and proceeds to throw herself on the ground and scream into the carpet for a very long time. Her screams vary between ‘no’ and ‘I hate you’ and ‘fuck you’ and just wordless rage that finally ends in the exhausted sobbing of a little spoon.

When Bree wakes up in the morning, her head hurts, there’s a bandaid on her thigh and a floofy blanket around her and under her head. The bible is on the floor under the coffee table at eye level with a post it saying ‘just promise me you’ll come back. Ok?’ stuck onto the vial of Michael’s Grace.

“Like I’d sacrifice myself for those assholes.” Bree snorts and takes it.


	18. The Devil's Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley goes too far at her Aunt's funeral.  
> Chris finds himself in serious trouble and tries to stall for time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I screwed up the posting yesterday. I accidentally posted chapter 13 again. So I'm posting 17 and 18 tonight.   
> Things are just going to get worse for the next few chapters so be prepared.

Chapter 18 The Devil’s Children

“Where’s Chris?” Is of course the first thing Riley says upon storming up to the burial site.

“This is a really inappropriate place to start yelling about your problems.” Abigail comments, otherwise ignoring her cousin.

“I’m not yelling. I can’t find him and I can’t reach him. Not by phone, email, text, IM. Even his imjur, instagram, twitter, tiktok and facebook pages are temporarily shut down. He’s not even on ThugWife and hasn’t been for days. So I’m asking, where the fuck is Chris?”

“He’s alright. He just wants some time alone.” Michael walks over to her. “He’s also going by Jean Michelle now. Abigail is right, though. This isn’t the time or place for this.”

“As if she cares one fucking bit. Look at her. She’s not even upset.” Riley gives Abigail a disgusted look.

“Riley.” The dangerous tone in her mother’s voice is ignored.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised. She didn’t care about Jamal and she sure as hell doesn’t care about Chris. She made that more than clear in that email she sent him, you heartless fucking bitch.” Riley steps closer to her cousin. “How could you say that to him?”

“Riley, you are verbally attacking me at my mother’s grave. You hardly have the high ground here.”

“Against the girl who murdered her fiancee? I think I’ll always have the high ground.”

“RILEY!” Michael snaps, making every angel within earshot step back.

“You think I’m lying, mom? Do you? Ask her. Go ahead. Ask her what really happened.” Riley continues to try and stare down Abigail who just sighs and folds her hands together in front of her.

“Think for one moment, what you just said, Riley.” She looks her dead in the eye. “Because I have no problems telling them what happened that night. Every single detail and it sure as hell doesn’t involve me murdering the man I loved.” Abigail’s steady gaze makes Riley shrink slightly. It’s barely noticeable but Abigail notices. “Besides,” She takes a folded paper out of her purse. “I think you have bigger problems than your twin being angry at you.” Abigail reaches past her to Michael, handing him the pages. “You should probably wait to see this until you get home.”

Michael almost just puts it in his pocket, but Gabrielle tries to take it, so he opens it immediately. It’s the center pages of a cheap magazine. Abigail watches as the anger on Riley’s face turn to pure fear as the figure skater realizes what Abigail just gave to her mother.

“Well,” Michael sighs. “That explains the message from the disciplinary committee.” He’s surprisingly calm. “They titled this Gender Reveal?” 

“Mom… I…”

“I know each of you is going to be doing this sort of thing, but is it too much to ask that you not do it in front of a camera for public consumption?” He rubs the bridge of his nose. 

“That’s not…. I didn’t know about the pictures. That’s… that’s…” Riley stammers.

“We’ll take care of this later.” Michael sighs and rubs his eyes. “Gabrielle did you really think that you’d actually be able to keep me from finding out about this?” He looks beyond exhausted.

“Well, I thought I could at least give you a few days before you had to deal with it.” She confesses. Michael looks up and looks around for someone.

“Riley, where’s Jeff?” he asks wearily.

“Either stuck at some gas station on the way here, or he’s gotten a cab somehow, and gone home. Or is on his way here. He didn’t call you because his phone was charging in the car when I took off with it and he’s too stupid to remember he can just pray to you.”

“You are going home and you’re going to wait for me in your room until Jeff and I get there.” Michael places his hand on his child’s head in a fashion that makes most angels very nervous but just sends her there before she can respond. “I’m sorry about this.” He disappears. Everyone’s looking at Abigail now. 

“I’m going home. Let me know when you’re having the family meeting.” She turns to Ben who’s right beside her, as she knew he’d be the second Riley showed up, and takes his arm. Without a word more, Ben takes her back to her apartment.

  
  


“Beatris.” Raphael appears in the hotel room. She gives a little yell, hitting her head on the fridge door. “I expected to see you today.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been taking care of Chris.”

“I thought he was going by Jean-Michelle, now.”

“He’s not a hundred percent sure either way. I love how fast you guys are dropping what you think is his dead name, though. Even though you may have jumped the gun a little. He’s kind of a mess,”

“I love my nephew but I don’t understand why watching a movie and eating junk food with him was more important than being at your best friend’s side as she buries her mother. Is he so badly off that you couldn’t leave him for a few hours?” He doesn’t quite sound angry, but enough so to make her uncomfortable. 

“Yes, but the truth is your daughter did not want me there. She sent me a text informing me that there was in fact no need for me to come today. Ordinarily I’d have ignored that, but the fact is as soon as I became human again, your daughter kicked me out and gave me a severance package like I was just her damn employee or something. She broke Chris’ heart just as his life started to fall to pieces and I have no idea what the fuck is going on with her. So yeah, right now, taking care of the sweetest little trouble maker I know is more important. He went to go pick something up for me. Please don’t give him a hard time about not being there.” She looks over at him, rubbing her head. “I am sorry for your loss. She was a wonderful woman.”

“Thank you.” Raphael looks down at the floor. “Riley showed up looking for Chris and accused Abigail of murdering Jamal.”

“Wow. Yeah, it’s actually a good thing I wasn’t there. I may be super mad at Abigail right now but I would have beat that little brat to a pulp before she finished that damn sentence.” Tris shakes her head.

“What do you know about the night Jamal died?” The question catches her off guard.

“Not much, She won’t talk to me about it. Why?” Tris turns to look at him.

“Abigail’s soul is hellbound. That information is what my wife traded away and possible resurrection for. Riley flat out accused her of killing Jamal in a fairly public place. She’s blamed her before but not with an outright accusation of murder. With everything I know I find myself wondering if that may be true.” Raphael sinks down onto the nearest chair at the small dining room table. “It can’t be, but there is something I’m missing.”

“You can’t be serious.” Tris’ jaw drops slightly. “You think that Abigail murdered the man she wanted to marry. Because RILEY said so?” Raphael looks up at her, not saying anything. “Let me tell you something about Riley.” Tris practically growls. “Selfish, bratty, its all about me, arrogant little angry bitch, Riley. She was in love with JJ and was not shy about trying to steal him from Abigail, which anyone with even a gram of intelligence could see was not going to happen given she was thirteen when he proposed to Abigail. Riley has always been jealous of Abs. Always. But after that night she just lost her damn mind as has been treating your daughter like shit and Chris like shit for caring about her and trying to have any kind of relationship he can with her. I have no idea why Abs hasn’t punched her lights out, yet, or let me do it, though I’d be punching both of them right now. I don’t know what the hell happened to that adorable little trouble maker I first met, but she is a little monster to pretty much everyone right now, but especially to Abigail and it’s only getting worse.”

“I don’t feel inclined to argue today.” Raphael rests his face in his hands. 

“I don’t care what Riley says, what people need to be doing right now is getting that girl some serious fucking help, not going after Abigail for the psycho bullshit coming out of that little twats mouth. Besides if Abigail killed someone, she would have a damn good reason to. Especially if it was JJ and she’d definitely talk to someone about it. Me, you, her mother… Riley is full of shit.”

“Do you know any reason why my daughter’s soul could be condemned? Besides her relationship with my father.”

“Maybe.” Tris sighs, covering her face. “I never really thought about the possible consequences of that on her soul, but I guess it really does stand to reason.” She shrugs.

“Do you plan on telling me this thing?” Raphael asks dryly.

“She’ll tell you. I assume you’re doing a family meeting about this since you’re here asking me. She’s not even really trying to conceal it that hard. Look at her email, for christ sake. If she still doesn’t at the meeting, then ask me again. I promised to let her do it when she was ready, but I think I’ve reached my limit with her. Hell, maybe having everything just crumble around her is what she needs. Maybe it’ll finally break her out of whatever the fuck is wrong with her. The gods know I don’t know what else to do.” Tris opens the freezer and slams it shut again. “This isn’t her. It’s not. This isn’t who she is. It’s like some empty hollow shell of her, or some demon doing an Abigail impersonation. The Abigail I know would never, ever have treated me this way, much less He Who Is Between Names.”

Raphael gets to his feet and touches her arm, letting the bundle of confusion, anger and compassion bury her head in his chest. It’s hard due to his own pain, but he manages to help her body rid itself of excess stress hormones and reassure her that everything will be alright. 

Chris slowly opens his eyes. His head feels like the time Riley accidentally dropped him during practice. Of course, he hasn’t lost consciousness that time and he has now. He doesn’t even remember being hit by anyone or anything. The walls are covered with pictures of him and Riley. They almost never photograph or deal with the media separately, but the few ones that have only him in them are all over the place. There are screen shots, newspaper and magazine clippings,a lot of doubles, and several pictures from someone’s camera. They’re not great, but decent. Who ever took them is either pretty good or can just afford a ridiculously good camera. The walls are just completely covered. 

He can see a collection of items on a nearby table that is trying very hard to be a collector’s display and not an alter, but failing miserably. There’s the tooth he lost at practice when he slipped on landing. He thought he’d swallowed it, but apparently not. A broken wrist band from a few competitions. Some gum. That’s probably Riley’s as he pretty much never eats gum that ends up green. There’s a bunch of signed merchandise, prominently displayed. It takes him less than a second to send up a quick prayer to his mother that he needs her to pick him the fuck up immediately.

“So,” he says out loud as he hears someone move in the room. “I take it your a fan.”

“Yes.” the voice behind him says softly, regretfully. It’s a fairly masculine one, but that doesn’t always mean anything. “You broke my heart, you know.”

“I’m sorry.” Chris gives a quiet reply, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I found the birth certificate.” A hand reaches over his head holding a back and white copy of the fake ones they planted to fuck with the press. Jean-Michele Pivency born June 6th, 2026 at 6pm 6 minutes, 6 seconds. 6 lbs 6 oz 66 cm. He just laughs a little. It even has the parents names altered. The Archangel Michael, Viceroy of Heaven as the mother and Lucifer Morningstar, Prince of Darkness as the father. Sex unknown. Father Timothy O’Brien as the attending physician or whatever. 

“Before the press? I was sure the tabloids would have fun with that. Do you have Riley’s? Our cousin replaced the birth certificate in our papers with these in retaliation for rigging the banner at her sorority to drop red glitter instead of confetti during her initiation.” He grins, though honestly it makes his heart ache to think about both Abigail and Riley at the same time. “We decided to plant it somewhere it would eventually get linked to the media.”

“It’s kind of the truth, though, isn’t it?” They give a sigh. “I didn’t want to believe it. You were an angel on the ice, beautiful, graceful pure. With an innocent air of mischief of course. I was so sure it was Riley.” The certificate is taken away again. “Angry bossy Riley with meanness and barely restrained violence in his eyes. I was so sure Riley was the evil one. Well, there’s nothing to say she’s not evil too, but...”

“She’s not evil!” Chris jumps to his twins defense almost automatically. “She’s just hurt and angry and lost. You have no idea what she’s been through. She hasn’t done anything wrong. Is that how I broke your heart? By not being biologically female?” He tries to turn the conversation away from Riley.

“Yes, but not the way you think.”

“What did I do?” He asks making his voice soft and gentle yet full of regret. 

“Nothing yet.” He can hear them behind him.

“What are you afraid I’m going to do?” It’s hard to keep the growing terror out of his voice, but if one thing living with Riley has taught him, it’s how to stay calm and gentle in the face of insanity. At least when it wasn’t directed at him. Why hasn’t anyone come to save him yet? 

“Don’t you know?” The person walks closer and puts their arms around his shoulders, resting their head against his at the same time. “I suppose they might not have let you know yet. Maybe they think it just couldn’t happen.”

“Is…its something that’s going to happen to me or something I’m going to do? Are you protecting me from something or protecting something from me?”

“Both.” The stranger starts to cry, hot tears falling on Chris’ neck. “But it’s okay. It’s okay. I’ll save you from them I promise. I won’t let them corrupt you. Oh, Chris.” More tears, though Chris starts to feel very cold. “I’m so sorry. I love you so much.” It’s impossible to tell if they’re crazy, part of the life or both. 

“Don’t cry.” he attempts to soothe them and presses his head slightly against theirs to comfort them. “It’ll be alright.”

“You’re not afraid?”

“A little, you made it clear something terrible is going to happen to me, but how can I that afraid when I can clearly see how much you love me?” He nods to the altar. “I know I have admirers, but you’re the only one who… this is about my father, isn’t it?” Chris turns his head away.

“Yes.” The stranger lets go.

“Since that’s the case I’m assuming that I’m going to have to die for some reason. For the good of humanity.” Chris voices the worst possibility he can think of. If he’s wrong then it’ll be nice to be reassured and he can work with things from there. If not… who knows.

“Yes.” Their voice trembles.

“I’m sorry. This must be so hard on you.” Nobody’s come yet. Are they even coming at all? Is he blocked? Is there a barrier or something? Is it just a hard place to get into? Or is this just how he’s going to die. “I can’t imagine having to kill somebody you love so much…” Hopefully the few tears that escape his eyes won’t seem anything but sympathetic. 

Honestly, though. He should have expected something like this. He is the Devil’s son, after all, so someone somewhere was bound to find out and come try to kill him. He was also pretty sure that one of their more psychotic fans would try and kidnap one of them or something at some point. He didn’t expect them both to be the same person. Or to actually succeed. Beyond that it hadn’t even occurred to him that he’d call for his mother and she wouldn’t/couldn’t come save him. 

“You… you’re crying? For me?’ The stranger starts to step out front but is jerked back by something. “Oh, there you are.” There are some quiet whispers. “I… I’m not looking at him.” They protest. “No… I know… I know, but I… I’ll never get another chance….. I know….. Yes, I know..” They sound like they’re about to cry. “I know. I didn’t… I will, I promise. Just let me have a little time with him...I won’t. I promise… thank you… I’ll let you know when it’s done.” 

“Who were you talking to?” Chris asks after several minutes of silence.

“An angel.”

“I hope that’s not true.” Chris does his best to sound concerned and not furious, “Because if they know or believe something this serious, and didn’t bring it to my family first, my mother will be so upset.” It might be true, though. If anyone wants the son of satan dead, it could very well be an angel. Even though he’s just human, no powers, no grace, no real threat…

“I think seeing you corrupted and consumed by darkness would hurt her more. Don’t you?” It sounds like they’re pulling up a chair or something and sitting down. “Can you imagine what it would do to her to be forced to kill you herself? Or how she would feel afterwards if she couldn’t do it.”

“What’s supposed to happen?” Chris asks to keep them talking. Whatever’s going on with his lack of rescue so far, at the very least he has to buy time. Keep calling out. The story he’s told is just ridiculous enough to sound true. If he didn’t know that his father was dead and gone past resurrection. If he didn’t know that the darkness has already been contained, he might believe it. His mother always does like to tell him how much he’s like his father sometimes. Maybe it’s more true than any of then want to admit.

He manages to get the stranger, Claudette, to tell him about herself. He continues to pray for help, but no one comes. Eventually he just stops praying at all. When Claudetter asks him what’s wrong, he feels like biting her face off but he tells what a bad week it’s been. The heartbreak, Riley’s little betrayal and how it’s probably ended their olympic career, his aunt’s death, his own identity crisis, how everything’s just been falling apart. He tells her it might as well end with being kidnapped and murdered by yet another person who loves him. 

Though in truth, the more he talks about it, the more appropriate and inevitable it feels. Only the thought of how much it would destroy Riley if he just gave up and let himself be killed, makes him tell Claudette is how much it hurts to think that the last thing Riley would have ever heard him say was to go fuck herself.

It’s not hard to convince Claudette to help him make a little goodbye video to her and the rest of his family, A last goodbye and a will of sorts.He walks her through how to make it automatically post to his private family only social media accounts when it’s done. In his final gambit, hoping to get just a few more minutes of life, he ends his video with a regret that he’ll die a virgin but otherwise it’s been a good life.

“You’re a virgin?” Claudette lowers the phone after setting up the automatic posting.

“Riley was insistent that we maintain the mystery as long as we could. Not that there was anyone I really wanted besides Abigail, but there were times, you know.. I mean, I’m only human.” he confesses. “Sometimes it’s hard to resist when all you want is to be loved and so many wonderful people seem to adore you.”

“How could they not?” Claudette brushes her dirty hair back behind her ear. “But it was the right choice, you know. None of them knew you the way I do. They weren’t there from the beginning like me. They didn’t see you when your father left. They weren’t there when you and Riley took to the ice to skate, really skate together for the first time. They didn’t see you fall and get up again, laugh, cry. They never saw how beautiful you were on the inside. Sure you’re playful and mischievous and can get a little hurtful defending someone you love, but you’re never really cruel or unkind outside of that. You always have a smile for everyone even when your eyes are full of pain. And did anyone notice? No. But I did. I saw.” She reaches out and caresses his cheek. His soft beautiful perfect cheek. “I know you don’t love me back. How could you. I’m so ugly and awkward and weird.”

“Don’t say that. So you’re not perfect. Who is? But clearly you’re loyal, loving, consistent, self sacrificing, brave. And so strong. Strong enough to give up the most important thing in your life, the person you love more than anything to save them from a fate worse than death.” He looks up at, his beautiful ice blue eyes peering up through the dark thick lashes Riley’s so jealous of. “Besides, how could anyone look at those tiger’s eye gems you have for eyes and think of you as anything but beautiful.” 

It’s fairly obvious her heart melts a little at this. When she leans forwards, clearly wanting to kiss him, he meets her the rest of the way. He just needs to buy some time, that’s all. As much time as he can. Whatever it takes. They’ll find him. They have to. 

The video will post eventually. If he can just stall until then. Not that he knows when she set it to post. At least, they won’t have to worry about where he is or what’s happened to him for very long. Not that he would expect that his mother wouldn’t be told when he arrives in heaven, but he may not. Azrael is clearly done with resurrections that won’t affect the survival of humanity, He and Riley are pretty things, fit only to be admired but of no real benefit to the world at large, just like she wanted. They’re certainly not an active part of the supernatural community more than they can help. If Azrael would have no problem putting his Aunt back in the reincarnation cycle to prevent it again, then she wouldn’t have one sending him through. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t go to hell, but the thought of having to go through life again, but all alone this time, without Riley seems a little more terrifying than the very likely possibility that he’ll be dying alone without ever seeing her again. He should have told her he loved her. 


	19. Family Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail and Ben have their first lover's spat  
> Abigail gets interrogated by her family about Jamal and her soul's eternal destination,   
> and is forced to reveal that she's the new Queen of Hell.  
> The results of the family meeting surprises her.
> 
> I accidentally posted the wrong chapter yesterday. I posted the right chapter18 today as well as this one.

Chapter 19 Family Meeting

  
  


“Are you alright?” Ben asks as soon as he and Abigail are in her apartment again.

“I am just fine. No I did not kill Jamal, and what you can do for me is go somewhere else. I don’t want you around me right now.” She heads into her room without looking at him.

“He had a right to be there, Abigail.” Ben, to his credit, knows exactly why she’s unhappy with him.

“Whether he did or not, you had no right to make that decision. You have to be smart enough to know that much, and yet you did anyway. You think you’re right and you don’t listen to anybody about anything. That’s one thing that hasn’t changed. I really didn’t expect it to. You are your mother’s son after all. But this is the reason why I never tried to contact you.” Abigail almost rips the dress, she takes it off so fast.

“Given you’re the same way..” He starts to retort.

“You listen to me, Ben Harahel.” Abigail grabs his tie. “I am the Queen here, and I neither need nor want a King. You have no right to make decisions for me or my family. I don’t care how good your reasons or compassionate your heart, you are not and never will be in charge of anything here. If you can’t understand and respect that, you are free to leave and stay gone until you do.” She pushes him back a little and turns away.

“He has the right to love her if he wants to. He has the right to mourn her.”

“Not then and there he didn’t. It’s only my father’s ridiculously compassionate heart that made him give into you, even if that wolf is the last person he’d want to see. Is this how it’s going to be having you around? All sweetness and love and yes ma’am until we disagree? Then it’s your way or the high way?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Yes. Yes that’s exactly how it is. Because this is my home, my thread of existence, not yours. Hell is my kingdom. I am it’s Queen. It is a dirty twisty blood thirsty kingdom made of every kind of sinner, villain, demon, condemned soul that ever existed. If you are here contradicting me, undermining my authority, especially with something so insanely personal in a public place, you are setting yourself up as a potential contender for MY throne. Which means no matter what you do or say in regards to that, you’re putting my life and the twins’ at risk. If I don’t rule with absolute power and authority, I can’t protect them! “ The statement startles Ben out of his anger.

“What do you mean protect them?”

“Chris and Riley are the Devil’s children, Ben. Do you have any idea how mouth-wateringly perfect they are for any power hungry demon content to be the power behind the throne? They’re young and hurting and incredibly emotionally vulnerable, And they’ll be on their own more and more as they grow older and have the right to insist that they not have their mother and his friend as a chaperone. They’ll be able to live their own independent lives in less than a year. At least so much as those two are able. You don’t magically become well adjusted at eighteen, you know. They’re nowhere near prepared for the level of corruption and manipulation of even a low level demon. Maybe if their father was still alive they would have been, but he’s not. Is he, Ben?” The steady look Abigail give Ben at this makes him crumble inside. “While it’s just me there, Hell is overwhelmingly in favor of my rule. But you are even more attractive as a potential monarch as you’re much more easy to manipulate. If there’s that split, there will be a faction who’ll still prefer Chris and Riley. Only with the sides who want me or you fighting each other, they’ll think if they can get us to destroy each other, it’ll leave a legitimate opportunity for them and their preferred stalking horse. Now, If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. Do not enter my domain uninvited again.”

Abigail puts on a black dress suit and walks out of the door, slamming it behind her. As soon as she’s in the hall, she takes a breath and composes herself. Maybe she went a little too far, but that’ll just make the reconciliation easier. She’ll have to apologize, but it’ll just make him love her more, further cementing her hold on him. Besides, she hears makeup sex can be absolutely fantastic.

Abigail reads through the post apocalyptic Winchester Gospels . Someone’s been adding books to the series since the author disappeared. The first set of the ghostwriters are the most useful as they deal with her Uncle Sam’s time without his soul. But the end is what interest’s her the most. It tells how to make the body completely uninhabitable for the soul, preventing it’s return.

The last thing she wants is for them to figure it out and force her soul back on her. IT’s nothing but pain and weakness and inconvenient and unreasonable. All it will do is keep her from doing what needs to be done, or at least punishing her for doing it. It is irritating having to play pretend all the time, putting up a mask for everyone to see, but masking her lack of feelings is much preferable to having to mask her pain.

Unfortunately what she’d have to do is even more impractical and potentially disastrous for her plans and desired lifestyle than the risk of getting her soul back. Everyone she loved would turn on her if she murdered any of them. She’d lose vital support and allies that she’ll desperately need. Yet at the same time, she can’t afford to let them find her soul and force it on her. 

She’ll have to find it first and hide it where they either can’t get at it or would never in a million years think to look. Then there’s the problem of how to make use of Ben’s grace should she get it from him. She could never hope to hold an angel much less the raw unadulterated grace of an archangel’s child. She wouldn’t be able to let anyone know that she had it either. But that’s a separate problem. Maybe not even a problem, given if she was able to use it even just once, she could change reality to solve that problem for her.

The answer is in the new books. She knows that. She’s read them before and while the solution to her soul problem is just dancing out of reach, she does know that its in these last books. She used to love reading about her mother and father falling in love. And seeing her uncle’s journey towards redemption. Now it’s dull and incomprehensible. How did any of these people end up together at all? Especially her parents. Her mother was reasonably wary of a lifelong commitment to a powerful supernatural being. And her father was desperately clinging, constantly demanding more than her mother could give at the time, sending her running over and over. It’s clear that it’s only the fact that so many terrible things happened when she did that she ended up going back to him. It’s clear to her at least that the last time it was just the love of Abigail herself that made her mother go back, no matter what they convinced themselves.

He’s still clingy and unable to let go. That’s probably the real reason her mother decided to stay dead, and not some stupid thing Azrael said about her daughter’s soul. Maybe something changed but the books end before any of what happened must have happened. They did have a fairly happy marriage that seemed to work very well. Clearly it was a good match aside from the emotional messes they were. Maybe a wedding ring made her father feel more secure in the relationship and her mother just gave up and resigned herself to the fact that her life would be a giant piece of crap without him.

Her mother’s death has deprived her of a valuable resource that’s just impossible to replace. That setback will be tough to overcome. She’ll just have to study psychology herself and intern in rehabilitation centers, specifically criminal rehabilitation centers. It’ll take much longer to get things done. Maybe if she could study her mother’s notes in regards to the work she did with her Uncle… It’s unlikely that her mother actually helped him to reform anu, but she could have certainly made observations and done research on his progress and changes. That could be useful in creating the rehabilitative structuring. Plus it’ll let her understand their relationship a little better. It’s likely entirely her uncle’s efforts that made it so cordial, but if he did respect her at least a little, as it seemed, how she got that respect would be incredibly useful to learn.

Her phone rings. It’s her father. She doesn’t answer but she texts back that she’s coming home and will be there in maybe twenty minutes. She’ll need to shower and get the sulfur smell off first, after all.

‘Where are you. I’ll come and get you.’ he texts back. Abigail hesitates for a moment. He will have to be told about her workplace eventually. Maybe now when he’s disoriented with his grief and feeling the loss more keenly he’ll take it better, caring more about keeping her in his life than anything else, and glad that she’s alive and unharmed. Of course it might break him completely and make him useless. Better not to break it to him right out of the gate like this. Especially not over a text.

‘Give me a few minutes to get myself together and I’ll let you know when I’m ready to be picked up.’ he seems to accept this.

It doesn’t take long and she finds herself escorted to the bunker. The same as the last time she was in trouble. She’s not thirteen anymore. It’s not nearly as intimidating as it was then. She takes the seat at the head of the table. It’s usually where her Aunt Michael or Uncle Dean sits, whoever arrives first. Her uncle Sam is at her right, so apparently it’s Uncle Dean’s seat this time. When Uncle Michael sits there, her father sits at his right.

She always found it funny the patterns and organizations at the table. When her uncle was there, he’d always sit in the chair closest to the accused, usually to their right. He’d have his feet up on another chair, somehow dominating the room with his very presence. There haven’t been many family meetings or interventions, since their uncle died, though they’re usually about her. They get incredibly concerned because she functions so well and doesn’t bother anyone with her problems. It’d be amusing if it wasn’t such a waste of time.

“Abigail.” Dean walks out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee. He looks at her. She looks at him right back. He raises his eyebrows and nods to her in a clear indication to get out of his chair, but she just continues to look at him.

“Dean.” Her Uncle Cas says softly. Dean just scowls a bit and goes to sit by his boyfriend. Raphael reaches over and puts a hand over his daughter’s. She just looks down at it a moment before putting one of hers over his.

“I k now this isn’t the best time for this.” Her Uncle Sam starts, empathetic as always. “But with Riley’s outburst, we thought it best not to put this off anymore.”

“Riley’s been blaming me for Jamal’s death for years.” She reminds them.

“Yes, but she’s never actually accused you of murder before.” Uncle Dean points out. “And rage-fueled beast she is, she’s not a liar.”

“Yes, she is, though, I’m sure she believes what she’s saying with this. However, honesty doesn’t keep you from being wrong. She simply doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.” Abigail states calmly, though she doesn’t keep the fact that this whole thing is just exhausting from her voice. “I never laid a hand on Jamal. I would never have hurt him. I loved him more than anything.” Besides she’d hope she could plan a better murder than that. Obviously she can’t say that out loud, but it’s pretty aggravating they’d think she’d kill him in such a stupid place in such a stupid way if she did kill him at all.

“Jealousy can be a very powerful emotion.” Her Aunt Gabrielle says cautiously, looking at her as if she doesn’t believe her incapable of murder, which is fair. Much to everyone’s surprise, Abigail gives a burst of laughter at this.

“I’m sure it can.” She says with a smile. “If you really think that I did it, I doubt I could say anything that would change your minds. And that’s all I’m going to say about it. I believe the prosecution bears the burden of proof in cases like these?” Abigail pushes her chair back. “If that’s all, I have things I need to do. Come back to me if there’s ever anything more than Riley’s say so.” She shakes her head. Her father won’t let go of her hand, though. “Abba.”

“Your soul has been condemned to hell, Abigail.” That explains what this is really about, 

and why they even took Riley even a little seriously. Her father holds on to her so tightly, as if he can keep her soul beside him b y sheer force of will. If course, the fact that it’s not even here right now is almost funny, not that he would know that. But now she knows where it probably is.

“Stands to reason.” She gives a nod and pulls the chair back in. “I am the Queen of Hell. If my soul went to heaven when it died, it would at the very least, be incredibly inconvenient and disruptive. It’s going to take thousands of years to get everything in order. It’s taken me several hundred just to get everything back to the most rudimentary organizational structure. I don’t even want to think about how long it took me to establish undisputed dominance. How many demons I had to render inoperative. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find talented and reasonably trustworthy staff in Hell? I’m glad Shelly left her personnel suggestions in demon proof boxes. Delegation is still a bit of a land mine. Not to mention getting enough rest, completing my school work, and all the normal every day things I still need to do when I’m here.” Abigail rests her head on her free hand and takes a deep breath. “Is there anything else? I still have things to do.”

“I thought you were going to hold your decision until after you’d finished your education.” Raphael says not quite as calmly as he’s trying to.

“Yes, I was, but then I no longer had a reason to either wait or turn the job down.” Oddly enough Her Uncle Sam is the first one filled with understanding and sympathy.

“And you didn’t feel the need to tell any of us this?” Dean demands.

“No.” Is the curt reply.

“And why the fuck not!” he demands, as if he has the right to.

“May I be blunt?” Abigail asks cooly.

“Are you ever anything else?” Dean snaps, as always taking charge of the meeting, or trying to, especially without Michael there.

“I am a legal adult. I was a legal adult when I made my decision and I don’t answer to you, Dean Winchester. I don’t answer to any of you because you have absolutely no authority over me. You don’t get to tell me what to do. I am only here right now out of consideration and respect for my loved ones. That is the only reason. And this sort of thing is exactly why I did not feel the need to tell any of you anything before I was ready. Which I was still not quite ready to do. I had and still have too much on my plate to cater to the arrogant self indulgent whims of well meaning relatives. There is no reason for me to waste my time and energy coddling and mollifying you over decisions I made for my life and quite frankly for the benefit of humanity’s continued existence, and ensuring that heaven will have a steady supply of soul power to feed it’s angels. 

“I already spend more time just being a daughter, niece, cousin, friend than I should. I love you and you are all very important to me so I always considered it time well spent, but I have a job to do. Several jobs to do, that none of you seemed to manage to fill before I was old enough to chose to do it or not. So clearly you seemed to think that if I decided to do it, I was a damned good choice. When I need your help and advice, and yes, I will need your help. I will come and ask you for it. You are of course free to refuse. Which is a right I myself have.” She goes to stand up but her father still doesn’t release her hand. “Abba. Let. Go.”

“Your mother gave up any hope of living as Alex Jones again to get us this information. That your soul was marked for hell.” He says quietly. “And you’re telling us about this now, when if we’d know, she never would have had to make that bargain.”

“If she had taken the car service I offered her instead of insisting on walking, she never would have died in the first place. You can’t blame me for this. And I am tired, so very tired of trying to take care of my parents and protect you from things you can’t handle. I don’t understand how my mother could stand it sometimes. Though I do understand a little better why she might not want to come back.”

“You had better watch your mouth, little girl.” Gabrielle stands up, angrier than Abigail has ever seen her. “You can talk shit to your Uncle Dean all you want, but you do NOT speak to your father that way!” Abigail admits to herself that she probably did take it a bit too far, and let her current frustration get the better of her.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” She kneels down next to him and puts her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry, Abba. I didn’t… I’m not myself today.”

“I know.” he says quietly, rubbing the back of her shoulders.

“This is all just so infuriating. Azrael and her… bullshit, Riley and her bullshit, you taking Riley’s bullshit seriously and asking me if I murdered the man I loved. Being accused of jealousy as if Jamal would ever be unfaithful or that I wouldn’t have just immediately cut him out of my life and not murder him for it. And yet no one even considers Riley’s intense and practically obsessive crush on Jamal creating enough jealousy to convince herself that I killed him. And I know that because if any of you did, then I wouldn’t be here right now being accused of murder by my entire family on the day of my mother’s funeral instead of just having to deal with the fact that Riley did it at my mother’s grave.” She clenches her fists. “It half seems like you’re all trying to lead me into a goddamned nervous breakdown because if you’re trying to do anything the least bit helpful, you’re really fucking not!” Abigail buries her face in her father’s leg so they don’t see that it’s fury that’s starting to overcome her and not sadness or grief or exhaustion. “At least Auntie Miqa isn’t here giving me shit, too.”

“We’re not trying to ‘give you shit’.” Dean starts to argue.

“Well, you’re succeeding at it very well for someone who’s not trying. Why are you talking to me anyways? I don’t like you and I care very little about your opinion. You have the least right of anyone to have any sort of say in my life and my decisions. ‘Uncle’ Dean. We’re not even related. At best you’re my cousin’s uncle.” 

“As someone who’s had to save the world several times, I think I have the right to voice concern about someone in my close family becoming corrupted and hellbound, especially if she’s positioned herself as the new Queen of Hell.” He stands up, looking down at her from over the table. “Does that make sense to you?”

“Why have the adults in this family started another apocalypse?” She snaps, standing up. “I haven’t done anything worse than anyone here has done. Anything worse… I haven’t done anything even close to as bad as the least of the horrific things people at this table have done. This is the last time I will come to something like this, I don’t care who it’s for, but especially not if it’s about my family not trusting me. Especially as I haven’t given any of you a reason not to trust me to live as a good and capable woman.”

“A good capable woman? Then why were you hiding this from us, if you didn’t think there was anything wrong with us knowing about it.”

“Please don’t try to tell me that you of all people don’t understand hiding things from people to avoid the trouble it would cause if they found out or you told them. You’re a hunter, you kill things for a living. Do you hide that from people because you secretly know it’s wrong?” She gives him a withering glance. 

“That’s different.”

“Different than being Queen of Hell and trying to figure out how to clean and recycle corrupted souls? Yes, I’m glad you’re aware of that much. What have I EVER done that would make any of you think I would do any of the horrible things you consider evil, or even most of the horrible things you didn’t consider evil at the time you were doing them. Maybe I don’t feel I can tell you certain things, but I would have thought you’d know me at least well enough to trust that I would always try to do the right things for the right reasons. And that I do a pretty good job at that in general.”

“I’m not so arrogant that I wouldn’t ask for help if there was any possibility of danger to anyone of you or humanity in general. I thought at the worst everyone would just be worried about the possible dangers to me. I never thought you’d all decide that I might just be evil, based on the word of an emotionally unstable CHILD and Azrael’s little information about my soul. Speaking of Azrael, she knows damn well that I’m the Queen of Hell and probably has since I took the throne. Everyone involved directly with an underworld knows. I actually went to BiCUD last year for diplomatic reasons. I’m honestly surprised that none of you found out before now. Especially you, Aunt Bree. Granted you have been having twice the workload since Uncle died and wasn’t able to keep the other angels away from Michael so they couldn’t play you off each other like kids with divorced parents.”

“Did you know, Gabrielle?” Raphael asks his sister. All eyes turn to her. She just crosses her arms.

“You really think that you would not have somehow learned it before now? Or that I’d have let Azrael get away with that shit with Alex if I already knew a damn good reason why she might be hellbound? I only get access to those files on a need to know basis. I can’t exactly just check up on my loved ones state of corruption whenever the hell I want. I don’t get to do that until the person fucking DIES, Raph.” She snaps, “And you, missy, don’t get to pretend that you have not been having some extremely concerning behaviors. Maybe I laughed my ass off when my sweet Sampaguita told me about the conversation he let you and your father avoid. But I did check your bank records and only knowing about you what we did, that was hella cause for concern. Because it looked like you were becoming a nymphomaniacal drunk, if we’re being blunt. And that’s absolutely something we have a right to stage an intervention for, even if we call it a ‘family meeting’ instead. Saying, oh, well it’s not as bad as it looks because I’m in hell a lot, running the place, isn’t exactly something that would worry us less and you damn well know it!”

“Bree…” Raphael starts to defend his daughter.

“No, Raph. This is getting into some Luci level bullshit. Abigail, I don’t care what you felt or thought or wanted to deal with or didn’t want to deal with, you know damned well that you taking up the Mantle of Queen of Hell is something you needed to tell us the second you made that decision. If you can’t handle telling us about it, then you don’t have what it takes to handle Hell. It was a selfish, immature, deceitful little piece of bullshit that has had serious consequences. Your mother’s situation is not your fault. I’m not saying that, but it is the result of a situation that never would have come up if you had done what you know you should have. And pointing out our own failings as a defense to your own is not going to cut it.

“Besides which being Queen of Hell means it’s even more important to a lot more people that you take care of yourself properly. Hell is designed to break human beings and corrupt their souls. It’s been doing that for as long as humanity has existed and to think you are above being affected by that requires far more arrogance than the mere refusal to ask for help in a timely manner would. But that’s what you seem to be pretending.

“The only person here who thinks that you are okay or have been okay for a very long time is you and I hope that on some level you’re self aware enough to know that you’re far from it. I know you. I knew your mother and I’ve known your father longer than humanity has even been around for. I’ve seen both of them self-destruct and you are setting yourself up for a serious crash no matter how you look at it. If you think any of us are going to sit around quietly and just watch that happen to someone we love again, then you have lost your god damned mind.”

“I don’t know you seem to be just fine doing that with Riley.”

“Riley is seventeen and a figure skater. We are also doing what we can to help her. But there’s only so much you can do without the other person’s cooperation. I thought you, at least, weren’t far enough up your own ass to think of us and our concerns with such utter dismissive contempt as you so clearly have shown tonight. We are a family. We love you and think the world of you. You need to appreciate that as it’s the only reason we’d have for not destroying you without question or mercy, should you fall as far as being the Queen of Hell makes possible for you to. It’s true we can generally trust you to do the right thing for the right reason and yes you generally do really well with that, as far as we know. But there is absolutely one thing we cannot trust you to do, and that is take care of yourself properly. Yeah, we all suck at it. Big time. But do you know what we are good at? Making each other take care of ourselves and taking care of them when they can’t. 

“Sam and I have each other, Michael has Jeff, Your Uncle has his himbo grease monkey, and Chris and Riley have each other, which is one reason we’re more worried about you than them. Your father had your mother, and even now he has each and every one of us, and many others here to help him however he needs. You’re tired of everything you’re doing for everyone else, I understand that. But you need to start taking care of yourself and letting us help you every bit as much as we are willing and able to. That includes family meetings where we try to draw attention to each others difficulties and find way to help those difficulties be resolved.

“If you are either breaking down into tears without a word about it or shutting away all your emotions in a little box, you are not okay and you need to do something about how not okay you are or you will be so much worse than you are trying not to be in every possible way. Don’t say you won’t. I see it all the damn time, since the dawn of time, angel, human, pagan, you name it. None of us were created to be alone. We were all made to be part of something, working together, supporting each other. One of the worst things people did was accepting that giving to others was a praiseworthy, noble, necessary act and then convincing people that if they accepted what was offered they were weak and sinful, and maybe already were just for needing it in the first place. 

“So you are going to sit back down, tell us what is going on in your life, what things you are having difficulty with and we will, as a family, figure things out and do what we can to lighten your load. And you are going to accept our help graciously like the rational, responsible human being we all know is in there somewhere. Do you understand what I am telling you? And that I am telling you this not just as your aunt but as the current Viceroy of heaven, though both parts of me want to just slap the shit out of you right now.”

Pretty much everyone at the table just stares at the angel for several very long seconds until it’s clear that she’s done speaking. 

“Does it have to be tonight?” Abigail asks quietly. “I had a fight with Ben before coming here and I wanted to go home and make up after this.”

“No. But I’ll pause time so it won’t take up your evening.” Gabrielle snaps her fingers and a large white board appears as well as several lap tops open Google Docs. “Everyone has their own color to add notes or questions or suggestions.

It’s a very long conversation and Abigail wishes she had more time to get her thoughts in order. There are several helpful suggestions about organizing her time. Her father offered to make her a self renewing plate of fruit, vegetables and cheese for when she’s in Hell, as well as a cucumber melon infused waterbottle of the same. Aunt Gabrielle offered to let several angels come and take the positions of power in hell. Her Uncle Sam actually volunteered to step in for her when she needed a break in the human world and her steward was also on vacation. 

That one caused a huge argument between him and his brother that was finally resolved when her Uncle Cas promised to go with him as added muscle. While she’s not exactly close to her Uncle Sam, she has to admit that his intelligence, cautious nature, tendency towards seeing in shades of grey and life experience make him absolutely perfect. At the very least she knows she can trust him to stick to her agenda and not make contradictory decisions without her approval. 

They do appreciate that she wanted to establish herself as a person to be reckoned with in her own rights. If they thought her strength depended on her relatives, no matter how strong it might make her, that would cause more problems than she would really want to deal with. 

“It is very hard to be in charge when you have older more powerful relatives around undermining your authority at every turn.” Gabrielle comments flatly.

“Dude, he isn’t even here.” Dean looks at her.

“Does she have to be?” She retorts.

But despite the arguments, with her Uncle Sam and Raphael working as peace makers, it’s actually a fairly good use of her time. It’s possible that regular meetings regarding the family business might actually help boost her productivity. She’s well established as someone they do not want to fuck with down there. Adding her family’s resources to the mix and working directly with them now can only help things. She was so sure it would be more trouble than it was worth. Apparently even without her soul, she’s prone to misjudgements. Especially in regards to her Aunt Bree. It seems she’s not just an irritating font of endless dad jokes. Even if she does seem to be lazy and irresponsible some times.

She’ll have to rethink a lot of things. 

“Is there anything we haven’t covered?” Abigail’s father asks.

“Aside from Uncle Michael’s thoughts, I only have one request.” She takes a deep breath. “The next time you’re concerned bout me to this degree, can you please have someone just come talk to me about ti instead of dragging me before the Council of Elders?” There’s a laugh from somewhere in the bunker.

“I think we can do that.” Her Aunt grins. “I think this is good enough for now. Go make nice with your boy toy.” Abigail gives a slight grin and snaps herself away. “Okay, she is scary good at harnessing soul power.”

“That girl has a serious attitude problem.” Dean shakes his head.

“She just really takes after her father that’s all.” Gabrielle shrugs, and leans against her big brother, putting an arm around his neck. “Though you were never so good at pulling off the ‘I am in command here. Fear me.’ thing.”

“Yes, but the last time he got like that he’s lost his fucking mind and jumpstarted the apocolypse, so I don’t exactly think this is a good thing.” Dean points out much to Raphael’s annoyance.

“I am sitting right here.”

“Look, Raph, I know she’s your baby girl and you don’t want to think that she’s anything less than perfect. We need to go back to her possibly murdering JJ. Did you not hear her? She’s spent several hundred years in Hell. Several hundred years. And only twenty with us. That’s several hundred years of demonic influence. That’s a huge fucking problem.”

“Dean, she’s not a helpless, easily manipulated person.” Sam speaks up. “She’s always had a mind of her own and has always been a good person. She’s also always consulted with her parents when she had questions, especially in regards to morality. I’m sure that the thing with Riley is just a misunderstanding bourne of grief and jealousy like she said. The only thing we have to focus on is helping Michael take care of Riley, and figuring out how to help her through these crisis with out completely losing her mind. Abigail hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“As far as we know. Anything could have happened down there.” Dean points out again.

“I think I’d prefer to discuss this with another parent.” Raphael says cooly.

“She was right though. She’s not a kid anymore. And we can’t even say she’s only twenty either. She’s technically older than both of us now, Dean.” Sam points out. “And probably fought and killed more demons.”

“On the plus side this means she doesn’t have a drinking problem or a sex addiction.” Gabrielle comments, nudging her brother. Raphael just sighs. NOt having to speak about it with his daughter apparently doesn’t mean not having it brought up in conversation by his siblings. Next time he’ll make sure to ask Sam not to talk to his little sister about something this sensitive. “She’ll be okay, Raph.” Gabrielle gives him a hug from the side. “We’re going to be a much larger part of her life now and that will make it much easier for us to make sure she’s doing alright and be there when she’s not. She just had to get that whole ‘bear the burden on her own shoulders, pushing everybody away thing’ that you and Luci kept doing.”

“I’ve missed hundreds of years of her life…” Raphael ignores the last statement and rests his head against hers.

“Yeah, it sucks. But it’s probably just along the lines of the decades you missed from Alex’ life while she was working with the little ones. C’mon let’s just go to Callisto a little bit and chill, okay?” She suggests. He just nods and they disappear together, off to their favorite ice moon.

“I’m going to go talk to Shelly. See what she knows about this.” Sam gets up and walks over to the couch behind the bookshelves, leaning over it to look at the nephilim reclining on it “Hey, lets go for a walk.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  



	20. Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris keeps stalling for time.  
> Jeb doesn't think Abigail is treating Ben very well  
> Bree and Mary meet each other again at the fae arena

Chapter 20 Deception

Chris closes his eyes and just focuses on breathing. Crying would probably ruin the illusion. The cuts on his arms and legs where Claudette cut his clothes off still burn. There wasn’t much bleeding and it wasn’t very deep, but it’s still just one more thing on top of all the others. At least his hands and feet have stopped hurting from being tied so tightly. She apologized, it was very clear that she didn’t mean to hurt him, but the knife she used terrifies him. It’s old and has ancient words on it that he doesn’t understand. He’s fairly sure it’s the one she’s going to kill him with.

“Oh, Chris.” Claudette lays her head on his chest, running her hand over the muscles of his body. “You’re so beautiful.” She starts to kiss his chest again. He has to remind himself that every minute alive is a minute more to be rescued in. “Being inside you, having you inside me, it was magic. Was it everything you thought it would be?”

“I never imagined it would be this way.” The tears start coming out despite his best efforts.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt? Are you in pain?” Claudette pushes herself up a little.

“No,” he lies. “No, I just… why couldn’t I have met you sooner? I’m sorry I never noticed you. I wish you’d come up and talked to me.”

“I was scared. I never thought that someone like me could ever be with an angel like you.” She kisses his tears away.

“I just wish we had more time.” Chris takes a shaky breath.

“I don’t… I don’t have to kill you tonight. I mean… you won’t be overtaken by evil until you turn eighteen. It was just… I was working to get a ticket to Ukraine and suddenly there you were, just walking down the street without Riley. He pointed out that there’d never be a chance as good as this again and it’s true. So maybe… maybe we could spend a little more time together”

“I’d like that.” Chris smiles. “It’ll give me more of you to remember when I’m in heaven.”

“You want to remember me?”

“Of course.” He smiles at her, in control of herself again. 

“Absolutely NOT!” The voice from earlier snaps.

“But…” She stands up.

“Don’t you understand that the longer you keep him alive, the more likely it is that his family will find him?”

“But you said the wards are keeping them out completely and won’t even let him pray to them. We do have until June.” She protests, almost pleadingly.

“That’s not good enough. If you give them enough time they will find a way to get him back. You should have killed him immediately and burned the body. They still haven’t realized he’s gone thanks to his twin’s drama. You have to do it before they do.”

“I.. I just… can’t we have one day?”

“No, dear one. It’ll just get harder and harder for you.” The angel caresses her cheek. “And more and more dangerous for you.”

“You could post my goodbyes on my facebook page. Just make a status saying ‘Moving in with my father’ on the public page. It won’t mean anything to my fans, but my family will think I’ve killed myself.” Chris speaks up. “They’ll be searching everywhere for my body. It’ll never even cross their minds that it’s anything else.”

“That’s actually a decent idea.” The ‘angel’ in the shadows says warily. “Unfortunately I don’t trust you.”

“Just one more day.” Claudette begs. “That would at least buy us one more day.”

“It’s up to you. You’re the only one who can do this, Claudette. You’re the only one who can save him from his fate. Do you really want to lose him to the darkness, because you gave into lust?”

“No.” She hugs her arms to her chest.

“Whatever you do, don’t untie him. If you do, everything is over.That is in no way negotiable. Promise me this.”

“I promise Jezebeth.”

“I have to be somewhere, but please remember why this has to be done.”

“I remember.” Claudette takes a deep breath and looks over to the table where she put the knife.

“And keep in mind, nobody wants to die and that can make good men less than honest.” The angel gives Chris a hard look, then vanishes.

“You are lying to me, aren’t you.” It’s not a question. “Just pretending to care about me and want to spend more time with me.”

“No.” Chris feels relieved he can reply somewhat honestly. “I’m worried about you. I’m worried about what will happen to you after I’m dead. It’s true I don’t really want to die, but I can’t say living has been anything great lately. Besides I’d rather die then be the new Prince of Darkness. I wish there was another way.”

“Me, too.” Claudette takes a breath and walks paver to the table. As she looks down at it, Chris starts to silently pray again, calling his mother, his uncles, anyone to save him. He even calls out to his grandfather, knowing full well that he won’t do a damn thing. He probably can’t. His heart almost stops when she reaches down to the table. When she picks up his phone, he nearly faints with relief.

Mary stares up at the crowd of fae surrounding the great hall. They’re everywhere. On floors, in the rafters, on the wall and even on each other. IT’s hard to remember how long she’s been here it feels like years or was it just hours? Fight, win, heal, sleep, eat, fight, win, heal, sleep, eat, fight. But nothing seems to change when she sleeps. She’s not even sure how long she’s asleep for. Or if night even comes to the Fae court. She’s fought twenty fights at least, won them all, though often by a very small margin.

She’s yet to see Michael. Though she’s sure he was given and is refusing their propositioning just like she has. Hopefully he’s in the same situation she is. There are so many worse ones. Hopefully this isn’t leading to the one she thinks it might be. Hopefully she can keep this going long enough for someone to come for them. And they will when Bree…

“The fuck am I thinking?” She mutters to herself. There is no possible way the nightingale would every tell anyone anything that would be helpful to either of them. She’s probably thrilled to be rid of them without having to be at all responsible for it. Bree tried to warn her, to be honest. The sad thing is, Michael would have believed her. Mary turns to look up at the fae King and Queen, beautiful, alien, bright, and yet nothing compared to the ever changing beauty of Michael’s wings.

“Seriously? You’re putting her in that?” She hears a familiar voice and alter’s her gaze a little to see Bree sitting on the floor at their majesty’s feet, her legs swinging over the edge of the raised platform. “No,no,no,no,no.”

“Oh look it’s the nightingale. Here to rescue me I presume.” Mary stares daggers at her.

“How could I not? I mean, I just love the both of you so very very much.” Bree puts a hand to her chest.

“Well, I can’t speak for Michael but I feel the same way.”

“Now, Gabrielle, what have we said about lying in our courts?” The king, Oberon reaches down to pat her hair.

“I’m not lying. Tone of voice affects the meaning of words, as does attitude, sarcasm, eye contact and facial expression. We’re sending each other a message neither of us misunderstands. I’m sure you haven’t missed the seething hatred between us and her ‘I would murder you and gladly watch you die’ sentiment passing between us, right? The pleasant words just add a layer of contempt that would have been impossible otherwise. It’s honesty, just backwards and upside down.” She explains. “Besides she’s the one I’m talking to. It’s a human thing. I wouldn’t talk to either of you that way.” She snuggles into his hand as she starts to run his fingers through her curls and puts her hand on Titania’s thigh. “I have been away for way too long.”

“We have missed our little song bird. You should come when you and your husband aren’t fighting. Bring him along. We’d love to get to know him.”

“Ech, I’ve tried,” Bree rolls her eyes. “He’s so… vanilla. It just gets so tiresome.”

“Exactly why should he have catered to the whims of such an ungrateful, disloyal, deceitful whore like you.” Mary points her blade up at her sister in law. “Though I am curious how he can still be tiresome when he walked out on you seven years ago.” The look Bree gives her in return is one of absolute astonishment. In face Mary hasn’t seen it since she stole Bree’s blade from her and stabbed the angel with it. That hit harder than she anticipated. Oddly enough she almost feels sorry for saying it, but then that smile appears, one she hasn’t seen since Michael’s fall.

“She definitely needs better armor. More appropriate to her skill level. May I?”

“Of course, angel.”

Bree keeps the smile lifts her fingers and snaps Mary out of studded leather and into a chainmail string bikini.

“I hate to tell you this, Ben.” Jeb sighs, sitting comfortably on the lounge part of the multisectional sofa. “But you were way out of line there. You’re lucky her father didn’t punch you. If my daughter’s fuck buddy forcibly insisted that my dead wife’s ex lover be allowed to attend a family only burial, I would have kicked the fucking shit out of him. Maybe both him and the lover. You’ll be lucky if she even talks to you again.”

“You really think so?” Ben looks up at him, more worried than he was.

“No, I actually think it’s lucky if she doesn’t. She’s kind of tearing you to pieces, pushing you past your comfort level physically, toying with your emotions, manipulating you… whoever she was, she sure as hell isn’t now. And this is based solely on what you have told me.” Jeb continues stroking Ben’s hair as he’s resting his head in his best friend’s lap while being sprawled out on the couch. 

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I understand where you’re coming from. You’re a sweet sensitive empathetic young man, but sometimes you try to assume and enforce authority where you have none, based on this empathy tunnel vision and a strong sense of right and wrong. That’s what I love about you, to be honest, and it did save my soul back there, but sometimes you go way too far with it. Remember the girls at the market. You do need to apologize to her for that, and then come home with me. I’ll need you to help me fill out leasing applications.” and get the fuck away from that toxic bitch, but Jeb is well aware that’s going too far.

“I can’t go back home yet. Not until she’s alright at the very least.” Ben apologizes. “Besides Aunt Bree insisted I stay here so I don’t get kidnapped by fairies.” That’s not even the weirdest thing Jeb’s heard since finding out about all the celestial crap.

“Fine! Then stay here with your sister. It’s not your job to endure her abuse as you try to 

‘fix’ her. You do not deserve that. And you can’t do it. You are not a licensed therapist. You have no training, no experience.. So many people stay in abusive relationships because they think they can fix their partner and it never works.”

“That’s not what this is, Jeb.” Ben sits up angrily.

“Jesus, Ben, you are so fucking stubborn! I don’t know how to… you would never EVER treat anyone… forget it. Go ahead, try and fix someone who doesn’t want to be fixed. I’ll be here for you to vent to, but I need to do it at home or over the phone because if I keep seeing this pain and confusion in your eyes, I will not be responsible for my actions.” Jeb gets to his feet a little less than gracefully.

“Jeb, you don’t understand…”

“And it’s not likely I will tonight. I’m too…” Jeb just shakes his head and waves the thought away. “If you could send me home?”

“Sure.” Ben looks down at his feet. “Thanks for coming.” Jeb just sighs and gives him a hug.

“I love you, Ben, no matter what mistakes you make or what you think you deserve. I will always be your friend. Okay? I just can’t deal with both this and sharing a house with your sister.” Ben actually laughs at this, much to Jebs relief. 

“I’ll talk to you later.” Ben gives him a squeeze and sends Jeb back home. When he’s gone Ben just plops is himself back down on the couch.

“Hey.” Alive leans on the entry way, toweling off her hands. “You okay?” Ben just shrugs. “We do have a guest room…”

“Thanks. I sent Jeb home. How are you?” He asks her. Alice just shrugs. “I kind of

thought you two were a perfect family. Crazy Shelly, Sensible Alice, Adorable Bruce. How’s he taking this?”

“Pretty well.” Alice makes a face. “We’re keeping things pretty much the same for him. He’ll live with me, go to school, stay here, same as always only when Shelly’s not working, he’ll go stay with her at Grandpa’s overnight.”

“Can’t you two make it work?”

“No. We’ve tried, but… I just … I need more than she can give me. More time, more attention, more physical affection. She’s giving me all she reasonably can, but it’s just not enough. I feel terrible. I mean.. She’s an angel, beautiful, kind, more than I deserve, but she deserves better too. I just can’t do this anymore, that’s all.” Alice rubs her arms.

“It happens, I guess.” Ben gives her a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah. She’s not taking it all that well,though she’s doing her best in front of Bruce. I think it broke her heart when Bruce said he wanted to stay with me. But he didn’t mean it like that. He wants to be with her all the time. He misses her, too. He doesn’t ask when she’ll be back home as often as he used to, because he knows she doesn’t always know when she can be. But he still does.”

“If it’s not enough, though. If you divorce won’t you have even less than what she’s giving you right now?” Ben points out.

“Yes, but…” Alice makes a face. “Living with and loving another person, even only sometimes, requires a lot from you as well. It’ll be less of what I need, but it’ll be made up for by not having to give as much as I was. I know it’s selfish, but it isn’t good for me. I’d been talking to her Aunt for a while, Alex not Michael, trying to figure things out, but it just is what it is. And it can only be solved by changing things that shouldn’t be changed. This is better for all of us even if Michelle can’t really see it right now. She won’t have try so hard anymore to do things that are just getting more and more difficult for her. See?”

“Maybe.” Ben becomes quiet. “Well, you’ll still always be my sister.”

“You’ll still be my brother. Are you hungry?” Did you want anything else to eat? Drink?” Ben just shakes his head. “Okay. Shelly’s actually fallen asleep putting Bruce to bed. So don’t feel obligated to stay for her, though you’re more than welcome to just hang out.”

“Thanks.” Ben lies there as Alice goes back to finish cleaning up in the kitchen. He tries not to think for a while but he can’t help it. Will she let him back in to apologize? Or did he ruin things again?

“I’m sorry.” her voice startles him. He looks up just as she sits on the lounge near his head. “I was angry for several reasons and I took it out on you.”

“No,” Ben sits up and turns to face her. “I was out of line. I overstepped my bounds and didn’t consider you or your father’s feelings. I just saw an unrequited love that wouldn’t go away and now never even had a chance. The least he could do was get the chance to say goodbye.”

“I understand. Your kind compassionate heart is one of your best qualities. Abigail puts her hand over his. “But he did have a chance. Two I think. And she rejected him twice. Once for infidelity, and once because she just couldn’t stop loving my father. He was my mother’s first love and first lover and dad was never completely comfortable around him. His love of her doesn’t earn him a place at her burial. Though bringing the apple for his tree was a wonderful gesture.” She admits. Ben decides not to correct her. “Anyhow, what I said was harsh and uncalled for. You didn’t deserve it. Please forgive me.”

“I already have.” the question makes his heart skip. Home. She doesn’t mean it the way it sounds but still.

“Of course.” He smiles, practically floating off in ecstasy when she puts her arm around him and rests her head on his chest. Without her having to say more Ben taken them back home.

“Do you think you could just hold me tonight?” She asks, surprising him.

“Will you be there in the morning when I wake up this time?” he teases only partly joking. She nods.

It’s the greatest feeling in the world just holding her like this. They only separate for a moment when he goes to get her some water. When he comes back her head is buried in her pillow. Just a touch on the shoulder is enough for the damn to burst. Tears start to stream down her face. Her sobs break his heart but all he can do is hold her. When she’s all cried out, or at least too exhausted, he sings her gentle love songs. Eventually she grows still, her eyes closed. Her body finally relaxes in his arms. Ben falls asleep listening to the sound of her breathing.

  
  



	21. Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris keeps stalling for time.  
> Jeb doesn't think Abigail is treating Ben very well  
> Bree and Mary meet each other again at the fae arena

Chapter 20 Deception

Chris closes his eyes and just focuses on breathing. Crying would probably ruin the illusion. The cuts on his arms and legs where Claudette cut his clothes off still burn. There wasn’t much bleeding and it wasn’t very deep, but it’s still just one more thing on top of all the others. At least his hands and feet have stopped hurting from being tied so tightly. She apologized, it was very clear that she didn’t mean to hurt him, but the knife she used terrifies him. It’s old and has ancient words on it that he doesn’t understand. He’s fairly sure it’s the one she’s going to kill him with.

“Oh, Chris.” Claudette lays her head on his chest, running her hand over the muscles of his body. “You’re so beautiful.” She starts to kiss his chest again. He has to remind himself that every minute alive is a minute more to be rescued in. “Being inside you, having you inside me, it was magic. Was it everything you thought it would be?”

“I never imagined it would be this way.” The tears start coming out despite his best efforts.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt? Are you in pain?” Claudette pushes herself up a little.

“No,” he lies. “No, I just… why couldn’t I have met you sooner? I’m sorry I never noticed you. I wish you’d come up and talked to me.”

“I was scared. I never thought that someone like me could ever be with an angel like you.” She kisses his tears away.

“I just wish we had more time.” Chris takes a shaky breath.

“I don’t… I don’t have to kill you tonight. I mean… you won’t be overtaken by evil until you turn eighteen. It was just… I was working to get a ticket to Ukraine and suddenly there you were, just walking down the street without Riley. He pointed out that there’d never be a chance as good as this again and it’s true. So maybe… maybe we could spend a little more time together”

“I’d like that.” Chris smiles. “It’ll give me more of you to remember when I’m in heaven.”

“You want to remember me?”

“Of course.” He smiles at her, in control of herself again. 

“Absolutely NOT!” The voice from earlier snaps.

“But…” She stands up.

“Don’t you understand that the longer you keep him alive, the more likely it is that his family will find him?”

“But you said the wards are keeping them out completely and won’t even let him pray to them. We do have until June.” She protests, almost pleadingly.

“That’s not good enough. If you give them enough time they will find a way to get him back. You should have killed him immediately and burned the body. They still haven’t realized he’s gone thanks to his twin’s drama. You have to do it before they do.”

“I.. I just… can’t we have one day?”

“No, dear one. It’ll just get harder and harder for you.” The angel caresses her cheek. “And more and more dangerous for you.”

“You could post my goodbyes on my facebook page. Just make a status saying ‘Moving in with my father’ on the public page. It won’t mean anything to my fans, but my family will think I’ve killed myself.” Chris speaks up. “They’ll be searching everywhere for my body. It’ll never even cross their minds that it’s anything else.”

“That’s actually a decent idea.” The ‘angel’ in the shadows says warily. “Unfortunately I don’t trust you.”

“Just one more day.” Claudette begs. “That would at least buy us one more day.”

“It’s up to you. You’re the only one who can do this, Claudette. You’re the only one who can save him from his fate. Do you really want to lose him to the darkness, because you gave into lust?”

“No.” She hugs her arms to her chest.

“Whatever you do, don’t untie him. If you do, everything is over.That is in no way negotiable. Promise me this.”

“I promise Jezebeth.”

“I have to be somewhere, but please remember why this has to be done.”

“I remember.” Claudette takes a deep breath and looks over to the table where she put the knife.

“And keep in mind, nobody wants to die and that can make good men less than honest.” The angel gives Chris a hard look, then vanishes.

“You are lying to me, aren’t you.” It’s not a question. “Just pretending to care about me and want to spend more time with me.”

“No.” Chris feels relieved he can reply somewhat honestly. “I’m worried about you. I’m worried about what will happen to you after I’m dead. It’s true I don’t really want to die, but I can’t say living has been anything great lately. Besides I’d rather die then be the new Prince of Darkness. I wish there was another way.”

“Me, too.” Claudette takes a breath and walks paver to the table. As she looks down at it, Chris starts to silently pray again, calling his mother, his uncles, anyone to save him. He even calls out to his grandfather, knowing full well that he won’t do a damn thing. He probably can’t. His heart almost stops when she reaches down to the table. When she picks up his phone, he nearly faints with relief.

Mary stares up at the crowd of fae surrounding the great hall. They’re everywhere. On floors, in the rafters, on the wall and even on each other. IT’s hard to remember how long she’s been here it feels like years or was it just hours? Fight, win, heal, sleep, eat, fight, win, heal, sleep, eat, fight. But nothing seems to change when she sleeps. She’s not even sure how long she’s asleep for. Or if night even comes to the Fae court. She’s fought twenty fights at least, won them all, though often by a very small margin.

She’s yet to see Michael. Though she’s sure he was given and is refusing their propositioning just like she has. Hopefully he’s in the same situation she is. There are so many worse ones. Hopefully this isn’t leading to the one she thinks it might be. Hopefully she can keep this going long enough for someone to come for them. And they will when Bree…

“The fuck am I thinking?” She mutters to herself. There is no possible way the nightingale would every tell anyone anything that would be helpful to either of them. She’s probably thrilled to be rid of them without having to be at all responsible for it. Bree tried to warn her, to be honest. The sad thing is, Michael would have believed her. Mary turns to look up at the fae King and Queen, beautiful, alien, bright, and yet nothing compared to the ever changing beauty of Michael’s wings.

“Seriously? You’re putting her in that?” She hears a familiar voice and alter’s her gaze a little to see Bree sitting on the floor at their majesty’s feet, her legs swinging over the edge of the raised platform. “No,no,no,no,no.”

“Oh look it’s the nightingale. Here to rescue me I presume.” Mary stares daggers at her.

“How could I not? I mean, I just love the both of you so very very much.” Bree puts a hand to her chest.

“Well, I can’t speak for Michael but I feel the same way.”

“Now, Gabrielle, what have we said about lying in our courts?” The king, Oberon reaches down to pat her hair.

“I’m not lying. Tone of voice affects the meaning of words, as does attitude, sarcasm, eye contact and facial expression. We’re sending each other a message neither of us misunderstands. I’m sure you haven’t missed the seething hatred between us and her ‘I would murder you and gladly watch you die’ sentiment passing between us, right? The pleasant words just add a layer of contempt that would have been impossible otherwise. It’s honesty, just backwards and upside down.” She explains. “Besides she’s the one I’m talking to. It’s a human thing. I wouldn’t talk to either of you that way.” She snuggles into his hand as she starts to run his fingers through her curls and puts her hand on Titania’s thigh. “I have been away for way too long.”

“We have missed our little song bird. You should come when you and your husband aren’t fighting. Bring him along. We’d love to get to know him.”

“Ech, I’ve tried,” Bree rolls her eyes. “He’s so… vanilla. It just gets so tiresome.”

“Exactly why should he have catered to the whims of such an ungrateful, disloyal, deceitful whore like you.” Mary points her blade up at her sister in law. “Though I am curious how he can still be tiresome when he walked out on you seven years ago.” The look Bree gives her in return is one of absolute astonishment. In face Mary hasn’t seen it since she stole Bree’s blade from her and stabbed the angel with it. That hit harder than she anticipated. Oddly enough she almost feels sorry for saying it, but then that smile appears, one she hasn’t seen since Michael’s fall.

“She definitely needs better armor. More appropriate to her skill level. May I?”

“Of course, angel.”

Bree keeps the smile lifts her fingers and snaps Mary out of studded leather and into a chainmail string bikini.

“I hate to tell you this, Ben.” Jeb sighs, sitting comfortably on the lounge part of the multisectional sofa. “But you were way out of line there. You’re lucky her father didn’t punch you. If my daughter’s fuck buddy forcibly insisted that my dead wife’s ex lover be allowed to attend a family only burial, I would have kicked the fucking shit out of him. Maybe both him and the lover. You’ll be lucky if she even talks to you again.”

“You really think so?” Ben looks up at him, more worried than he was.

“No, I actually think it’s lucky if she doesn’t. She’s kind of tearing you to pieces, pushing you past your comfort level physically, toying with your emotions, manipulating you… whoever she was, she sure as hell isn’t now. And this is based solely on what you have told me.” Jeb continues stroking Ben’s hair as he’s resting his head in his best friend’s lap while being sprawled out on the couch. 

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I understand where you’re coming from. You’re a sweet sensitive empathetic young man, but sometimes you try to assume and enforce authority where you have none, based on this empathy tunnel vision and a strong sense of right and wrong. That’s what I love about you, to be honest, and it did save my soul back there, but sometimes you go way too far with it. Remember the girls at the market. You do need to apologize to her for that, and then come home with me. I’ll need you to help me fill out leasing applications.” and get the fuck away from that toxic bitch, but Jeb is well aware that’s going too far.

“I can’t go back home yet. Not until she’s alright at the very least.” Ben apologizes. “Besides Aunt Bree insisted I stay here so I don’t get kidnapped by fairies.” That’s not even the weirdest thing Jeb’s heard since finding out about all the celestial crap.

“Fine! Then stay here with your sister. It’s not your job to endure her abuse as you try to 

‘fix’ her. You do not deserve that. And you can’t do it. You are not a licensed therapist. You have no training, no experience.. So many people stay in abusive relationships because they think they can fix their partner and it never works.”

“That’s not what this is, Jeb.” Ben sits up angrily.

“Jesus, Ben, you are so fucking stubborn! I don’t know how to… you would never EVER treat anyone… forget it. Go ahead, try and fix someone who doesn’t want to be fixed. I’ll be here for you to vent to, but I need to do it at home or over the phone because if I keep seeing this pain and confusion in your eyes, I will not be responsible for my actions.” Jeb gets to his feet a little less than gracefully.

“Jeb, you don’t understand…”

“And it’s not likely I will tonight. I’m too…” Jeb just shakes his head and waves the thought away. “If you could send me home?”

“Sure.” Ben looks down at his feet. “Thanks for coming.” Jeb just sighs and gives him a hug.

“I love you, Ben, no matter what mistakes you make or what you think you deserve. I will always be your friend. Okay? I just can’t deal with both this and sharing a house with your sister.” Ben actually laughs at this, much to Jebs relief. 

“I’ll talk to you later.” Ben gives him a squeeze and sends Jeb back home. When he’s gone Ben just plops is himself back down on the couch.

“Hey.” Alive leans on the entry way, toweling off her hands. “You okay?” Ben just shrugs. “We do have a guest room…”

“Thanks. I sent Jeb home. How are you?” He asks her. Alice just shrugs. “I kind of

thought you two were a perfect family. Crazy Shelly, Sensible Alice, Adorable Bruce. How’s he taking this?”

“Pretty well.” Alice makes a face. “We’re keeping things pretty much the same for him. He’ll live with me, go to school, stay here, same as always only when Shelly’s not working, he’ll go stay with her at Grandpa’s overnight.”

“Can’t you two make it work?”

“No. We’ve tried, but… I just … I need more than she can give me. More time, more attention, more physical affection. She’s giving me all she reasonably can, but it’s just not enough. I feel terrible. I mean.. She’s an angel, beautiful, kind, more than I deserve, but she deserves better too. I just can’t do this anymore, that’s all.” Alice rubs her arms.

“It happens, I guess.” Ben gives her a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah. She’s not taking it all that well,though she’s doing her best in front of Bruce. I think it broke her heart when Bruce said he wanted to stay with me. But he didn’t mean it like that. He wants to be with her all the time. He misses her, too. He doesn’t ask when she’ll be back home as often as he used to, because he knows she doesn’t always know when she can be. But he still does.”

“If it’s not enough, though. If you divorce won’t you have even less than what she’s giving you right now?” Ben points out.

“Yes, but…” Alice makes a face. “Living with and loving another person, even only sometimes, requires a lot from you as well. It’ll be less of what I need, but it’ll be made up for by not having to give as much as I was. I know it’s selfish, but it isn’t good for me. I’d been talking to her Aunt for a while, Alex not Michael, trying to figure things out, but it just is what it is. And it can only be solved by changing things that shouldn’t be changed. This is better for all of us even if Michelle can’t really see it right now. She won’t have try so hard anymore to do things that are just getting more and more difficult for her. See?”

“Maybe.” Ben becomes quiet. “Well, you’ll still always be my sister.”

“You’ll still be my brother. Are you hungry?” Did you want anything else to eat? Drink?” Ben just shakes his head. “Okay. Shelly’s actually fallen asleep putting Bruce to bed. So don’t feel obligated to stay for her, though you’re more than welcome to just hang out.”

“Thanks.” Ben lies there as Alice goes back to finish cleaning up in the kitchen. He tries not to think for a while but he can’t help it. Will she let him back in to apologize? Or did he ruin things again?

“I’m sorry.” her voice startles him. He looks up just as she sits on the lounge near his head. “I was angry for several reasons and I took it out on you.”

“No,” Ben sits up and turns to face her. “I was out of line. I overstepped my bounds and didn’t consider you or your father’s feelings. I just saw an unrequited love that wouldn’t go away and now never even had a chance. The least he could do was get the chance to say goodbye.”

“I understand. Your kind compassionate heart is one of your best qualities. Abigail puts her hand over his. “But he did have a chance. Two I think. And she rejected him twice. Once for infidelity, and once because she just couldn’t stop loving my father. He was my mother’s first love and first lover and dad was never completely comfortable around him. His love of her doesn’t earn him a place at her burial. Though bringing the apple for his tree was a wonderful gesture.” She admits. Ben decides not to correct her. “Anyhow, what I said was harsh and uncalled for. You didn’t deserve it. Please forgive me.”

“I already have.” the question makes his heart skip. Home. She doesn’t mean it the way it sounds but still.

“Of course.” He smiles, practically floating off in ecstasy when she puts her arm around him and rests her head on his chest. Without her having to say more Ben taken them back home.

“Do you think you could just hold me tonight?” She asks, surprising him.

“Will you be there in the morning when I wake up this time?” he teases only partly joking. She nods.

It’s the greatest feeling in the world just holding her like this. They only separate for a moment when he goes to get her some water. When he comes back her head is buried in her pillow. Just a touch on the shoulder is enough for the damn to burst. Tears start to stream down her face. Her sobs break his heart but all he can do is hold her. When she’s all cried out, or at least too exhausted, he sings her gentle love songs. Eventually she grows still, her eyes closed. Her body finally relaxes in his arms. Ben falls asleep listening to the sound of her breathing.

  
  



	22. Better Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris is in the hospital. Riley doesn't take it well.  
> Michael isn't taking it that well either.

Chapter 22. Better Half

**  
  
**

Of course, Jeff would be here when Riley gets up in the morning. He’s always there, sleeping in Alice’s room, well now it’s just the room next to her and Chris’. It only took a year after her father’s death for him to weasel his way into actually living in the apartment and not just below it. She’s surprised he’s settled for his own bed and not her mother’s/

“What are you looking at?” She snaps at him as he gives her a concerned look.

“You look like you’re in pain.” He ignored her attitude. “And you’re about two weekls away from the usual cause, plus it’s not generally in the ribs.” He nods to her. Her arms are held loosely to her chest.

“I’m fine.” Riley grits her teeth and sits down.”So fuck off.” She grabs some cereal from the top of the fridge, considers getting milk and a bowl and just sits at the table instead, box in hand.

“He’s not going to stay mad at you, you know.” Jeff reassures her.

“Yeah, Jeff, I do fucking know.” Riley lies. It might be different this time. She lied to him, broke a promise they made each other, fraternized with the enemy and exposed their biological sexes to the world after insisting they keep it secret from the entire world no matter the cost. He’s never completely cut off contact with her before, either. The silent treatment, sure. But usually when they’re still together. If not, he’ll end up making some passive-aggressive posts that are still ‘technically not talking to her’. He’s NEVER just disappeared on her, either. What’s worse is that after that fucking email that bitch Abigail sent him, he’s got to be miserable. She knows damn well he’s not okay and he’s upset and alone. She can feel the pain of his heartbreak in her chest. It’s like being stabbed maybe a dozen times. There’s nothing she can do about it since he won’t even talk to her.

The sound of Jeff’s phone ringing does nothing to quell the increasing fear and anxiety she’s had since waking up from a nightmare involving being raped by some no op transwoman the police interrupting, some sort of ceremonial knife coming down at her, and the smell of sulfur. She just really really needs to see Chris.

“Oh my god.” Jeff covers his mouth with his hand. “Is… are you… what do they… right, no… um…” his hand moves to his forehead pushing back his greying hair. “Okay. Okay, okay…. Yeah, no, we’ll meet you there. Do you need me to get Raphael?...no, right, of course he is. He’ll definitely be alright, then.” Riley just looks at him quietly. Strangely enough his visible relief makes her anxiety stop increasing. “Okay, I’ll let her know… Yeah, but do you want her to hear about it at the hospital?.... No. No you stay with him. It’ll be fine… trust me. I can handle it.. I’m sure… thank you. We’ll see you soon.” He hangs up and looks over to Riley.

“That was mom, right?” She asks quietly and without cursing. Jeff nods. “Who’s in the hospital?”

“Chris.” Jeff responds just as quietly.

“Why is he in the hospital?” She frowns, clearly confused by the statement.

“He.. he got hurt.”

“No, I mean, why didn’t they just heal him? Why is he still hurt? That doesn’t make any sense. I mean it’s obviously worse than a broken bone or some skating injury. Or you’d have said straight off.” She shakes her head. 

“I think you should sit down.” He takes a breath.

“I am sitting down.” The lack of hostility and accompanying profanity worried Jeff immensely.

“The police… the official theory is that an obsessed fan kidnapped him and, um….”

“Raped and stabbed him?”Riley just keeps looking straight ahead and not at Jeff at all.

“That’s what it looks like.” Jeff looks her over. Riley’s not moving, which is not good. Like her mother, she’s never actually still. Not even when she sleeps. “How did you know?”

“Apparently I didn’t have a nightmare.” her face turns slightly pale.

“He’ll be alright. Your uncle is there, everything will go perfectly and he’ll make a rapid but now miraculous recovery.” jeff sits down next to her and puts his hand over hers. Still nothing. No cursing, no shoving, no dirty looks, no smart ass remarks or rolling eyes. She doesn’t even look angry and there’s no signs of overt hostility whatsoever. “Riley, are you okay?” a tear rolls down her face.

“This is my fault.” She whispers. “He didn’t even want to get to the olympics or do contests. He just did it because he always does things for me. He changed his name for me when he loved benign named after mom and Joan of arc. He played gender games in public for me and he just always does everything for me. And couldn’t even go home with him when our aunt died. If I’d have been there, no one would have even tried to fuck with him. If I didn’t make him skate he wouldn’t have even had any psycho fans to begin with and this never would have happened.”

“You don’t know that.” Jeff pats her hand. “And even if it is true that still doesn’t make this your fault in any way. Shitty things happen and we can’t prevent them. That doesn’t make them our fault. If anyone is to blame it’s the person who actually did the terrible thing you’re blaming yourself for. You had no idea this would happen. I know that because I know that if you ever thought anything you were doing could put Chris in danger, you’d either stop immediately or never would have started in the first place.”

“I didn’t even know he was missing!” She starts to cry. “And how he’s hurt and in the worst ways, when I tried so hard to make sure nothing like this never happened. I can’t protect him if he doesn’t want to be near me. He’s the only thing I love and he doesn’t even want to talk to me anymore. ”

“Riley, if he wakes up and you aren’t there, it’ll break his heart. You are the most important thing in the world to him.” Jeff hands her a napkin. “And yes, more than Abigai.” he interrupts before she can do more than open her mouth. “And do you know how I know? Because he’s traveling the world with you, spending all his time with you, practicing, eating, watching movies. He’s not staying home to be close to Abigail. He’s going to need and want you to be with him more than ever.” This seems to be the right thing to say, thank god.

“Okay. Just let me pull myself together.” She sniffs and wipes her nose. “I still hate you.”

“I know.” Jeff smiles, “Though you at least have to admit you kind of actually like The Duck.”

“No. I still fucking hate his guts.” She scowls, tensing up at the mention. “And don’t ask me why I’m screwing him because I don’t fucking know.”

“Oh, it’s one of those things.” Jeff chuckles.She just looks over at him as if he’s crazy.

“You… uh.. That’s an actual thing?”

“Oh, yeah.” he nods sagely. “I’ve had a couple of those.”

“It’s not just more proof that I’m just a twisted, fucked up hellspawn of a child?”

“God, no. I mean, it’s a little fucked up, but it’s a normal human kind of fucked up. Besides given what you’ve been through, it’d be worried if you weren’t a little fucked up by it.” He reassures her.

“Chris isn’t.”

“Yeah he is. He’s just fucked up in a completely different way.” Jeff gets to his feet.

“Is that what he talks to you about?” Riley asks quietly, surprising Jeff. He and Chris were both fairly sure they kept their little semi-parental chats from her.

“Sometimes, but mostly about, ah, normal human adolescent boy things. You know. Puberty. Like the stuff you talk to Alice about. Since the relatives you’re close to never actually went through it,” He gets his jacket from the closet and Riley’s as well. “Chris is still in surgery and probably won’t wake up for an hour or two afterwards, so you have time to eat your cereal.”

“I’m not hungry anymore.” She puts it on the table and goes to get her jacket.

“Okay. Do you want to bring anything with you? For Chris?”

“Yeah.” Riley nods, taking a deep breath and goes back into their room. The big rainbow plushy their father got them to cuddle with when the other wasn’t around is still on the closet shelf. It was pretty much only used when they were sick. They had to sleep apart so as not to get each other sick. Or when they went on a solo weekend with one of their parents. They might not let her stay all night at the hospital and if they do, she’ll probably have to sleep in the chair or something. 

The laptop is coming, of course. His sketch book, a change of clothes from his suitcase. Fuzzy socks because hospitals are always freezing. The SAW collection. She doesn’t like the sequels so much because it turns kind of soap opera-ish. The first one was great because Jigsaw was just this unfathomable monster and the focus was on the torture and lessons of redemption and the appreciation of life in the sickest most twisted way possible.Of course Chris likes the sequels for the very reasons she doesn’t, so whatever. She’ll bring Adventure Time and Utena Revolutionary girl, too because they’re too old to find online. Their Aunt Bree always insisted on giving them super old crap to watch and listen to. 

Her phone’s not finished charging so she just grabs it and the charger. That should be it. If she forgets something, she can just ask their mom to go get it. Or maybe Jeff. When she walks back out, everything is in the tote bag and Jeff’s put the cereal away. He looks old. His dirty blonde hair’s going grey. He has smile wrinkles and forehead wrinkles. He is fifty three but nobody else in her family ages properly so it’s weird looking at him.

He’s just an ordinary unremarkable human being doing ordinary unremarkable human things for her family and somehow he’s her mother’s best friend. She doesn’t understand it at all. He’s not special in any way. He’s just Jeff. He’s not good enough to be anything to the most powerful angel and oldest being in the world. He’s certainly nowhere near good enough to replace her father. It’s insulting and infuriating that he even tries.

It’s not as if she’s any better, though. She’s nothing, just a selfish, powerless, stubborn, stupid, violent, distructive disappointment. Sure she can skate, but it’s a useless purposeless skill only good for showing off and making herself feel loved and valuable. Or at least it gives her the illusion of it which is good enough to let her believe it sometimes. That’s why she chose to do it, after all. It’s just a devout refusal to do anything good that could possibly actually help any human being alive.

Maybe that’s why her mom likes Jeff so much, because even if he’s not special, he’s still better than her. Maybe that’s why everybody hates her, or at least cares about her the least of everyone they care about. Her father loved Shelly best, then Abigal, then Chris, and then her last of all. Shelly’s parents and the Winchesters love Shelly best. Her Uncle Raphael loves his daughter best. Abigail’s her mother’s favorite as well. The only one who ever loved her best is Chris and she’s hurt him and let him down in the worst ways. Now Jeff will take her place as well as her father’s.

She doesn’t say anything on the way down to the car, or on the way to the hospital. But she also doesn’t move to leave the car when they’re finally in the parking lot.

“Riley?” Jeff asks gently, looking back in the car.

“Thank you.” she mumbles quietly. “For taking care of me even though I know you hate me as much as I hate you.” Jeff just gives a sigh and sits back down, closing the car door.

“I don’t hate you, Riley.”

“You should. I’m a bitch and treat you like shit because you stupidly keep trying to take Dad’s place when you can’t.” She snaps a little.

“I’m not trying to take his place, Riley. I’m not trying to be your father. I just want to be Uncle Jeff again. Your mother and I are just friends. He’s my best friend. Like you and Chris are to each other, though not quite that intense. It’s never going to be anything more and I’m okay with that. Your father thought otherwise, but he didn’t understand love as much as he thought he did. He was a jealous person and very insecure, especially when it came to your mother. It’s clear he was trying, though.” Jeff leans back.

“It’s okay if you really do.” Riley closes her eyes. “I know I’m the evil twin.”

“Riley, you are the angry twin, that’s all. You’re not evil, you’re hurt and confused and frustrated and lash out, but you haven’t ever done anything even remotely evil. We don’t know how to help you and that frustrates us, too. Beside how can I hate you when you’re so much like your mother.”

“I’m not like mom. He’s so strong and powerful and good and patient and smart and talented. He’s artistic and loved and respected by everyone. I’m none of that.”

“First off, you can lift your brother over your head with one arm while ice skating. Your muscles are like tempered steel. You’re absolutely fearless, skating despite being too tall, too thick to be a figure skater. You’re by all rights faster than everyone said you two should be now. You’re protective and motherly and not just to Chris. I saw you at the school playing with the smaller kids all the time.” He puts his arm around her shoulders letting her lean into him.

“You very much are an artist. What you two do on the ice is one of the most beautiful amazing things I’ve ever seen. You may be a c student while trying your best, but that doesn’t make you stupid, that makes you average. Physically you’re brilliant. Mike is as smart as you’d expect someone who’s been alive since before the dawn of time to be, but he’s definitely more brawn than brain and has to learn things the hard way. Not quickly either. He’s still not that great at being human.

“And his temper? The man has a very short fuse with some things, and even when he manages to keep it in check for a while… I know you’ve heard your parents fight. It’s taken him a lot of time and a lot of effort to stop reacting to things physically. Calming himself was especially hard. As for being universally loved and respected, the only angel that does not have incredibly turbulent mixed feelings about your mother is your Uncle Raphael. Even you have mixed feelings about him.” Jeff points out. Riley moves away from him at this.

“I love my mother.” She glares at him.

“But you still hate him, a little.” Jeff says knowingly, which is hard to dispute given how many times Riley’s told her mother she hated him over the last seven years.

“Maybe sometimes.” She mutters, crossing her arms and turns away.

“Still, you’re actually a great deal like your mother. That’s why you were your father’s favorite.” Jeff grins.

“Oh, Bull shit. He loved Shelly and Abigail more than me. Even with just me and Chris, he always went to Christ first, took care of him first, apologized to him first, gave him things first.”

“Riley, you always put up a fuss if Chris wasn’t taken care of first. You probably just don’t remember it, but you should know as well as I do that you still would even now. You sure as hell wouldn’t even speak to him if Chris was upset with him, no matter how you felt. Even I know that much, so Luci definitely did. As for Abigail your mother’s pretty sure their relationship had a lot to do with trying to make up for being a shitty big brother to your Uncle. Besides no matter how much parents may seem to like another child, their own children are always more precious and more valuable and more important to them. Even if they’re as big of a mess as you think you are. Hell, look at your father, with all he put your grandfather through, he was still one of his favorites. Love isn’t rational like your thinking, especially not your love for your children. Even just those who are the closest you’ll ever have to them.”

“I guess you kind of have a point.”Riley shrugs, with a slight smile. “I haven’ tried to destroy humanity or anything.”

“See. You’re crushing it.” Jeff gives her a nudge in the arm.

“Okay. Okay. I’m okay.” Riley slowly inhales and exhales a few times to convince her body of that. “Okay. Let’s go.” She grabs the bag from the back seat and gets out of the car. “Jeff?”

“Yes, Riley?”

“This never happened.” She turns and sprints to the hospital entrance. Jeff just smiles and walks slowly after her. Mike is never going to believe this. Hell, he barely does himself. When he reaches them all, Riley is yelling at one of the medical staff.

“Then take me to the room you’re going to put him in! Christ, I’m not asking to go into the fucking operating room!”

“Riley.” Michael calls her name in a warning tone, that doesn’t really do much anymore. “Hands off.”

“And give him a private room. We can afford it.” She let’s go of the poor resident’s over coat, as he starts to look for security.

“Thank you for getting her here.” Michael walks over to his friend. “I know it must have been an ordeal.”

“It was okay. She kind of bypassed volcanic eruption and went straight to the eye of the storm. Is Raph in there with them?”

“Yes. I’m not worried about that part. I know he’ll be fine, but it’ll take a while. This is why I didn’t want them doing this. They’re public figures. If they get hurt publicly, they have to heal within the realm of human probability, fast but not abnormally so.” Michael holds his arms tightly to his body. Jeff just puts a hand on his shoulder. “She’s here, too.” Michael’s face darkens.

“She?”

“The waste of a soul that did this to him.” he has that terrifying tone in his voice. “She was shot when the police broke down the door. Several times because she just kept stabbing him. She should have been left for dead. Or at least they could have aimed better. But no, they were both too badly injured to take anywhere but the nearest hospital so she’s in the other operating room while doctors and nurses squander their time on keeping her alive when there are so many other people that deserve their help instead.”

“It doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

“No. It makes me wish Helel was here, more than anything.” Michael says darkly.

“Yeah, Luci was always better at helping the twins get through things. Like when Courage died.” Jeff replies, though he know damn well what Michael really means.

“I wish he was here, in any way for any and ever reason. But he’d want vengeance and suffering and so do I. Riley will when she really knows her brother will be okay. I want vengeance, but I know I should want justice. Unfortunately I don’t think any of us even know what that would be.”

“What about your sister? Gabrielle’s the Angel of Justice and Judgement, isn’t she?”

“Among other things.” Michael makes a face. “I don’t… we’re not exactly speaking right now.”

“Let me guess, your unasked for assistance is undermining her authority again?” Jeff wisely assumes.

“She thinks so.” Is the stubborn reply.

“Have you considered just… not?”

“I should, but she’s taken on too many roles and can’t do everything by herself. If I take care of things that are brought to my attention, that’s just less for her to do. She’ll realize that eventually.”

“Oh. Okay. As long as you’re sure they’re not just playing you off each other like kids of divorced parents. Or like the twins used to try to do when their father was here.” Jeff shrugs. Michael just gets an uncomfortable look at this. Jeff’s probably not the first person to suggest that. At least he’s thinking of something else besides vengeful murder and torture now..


	23. Sister Sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shelly, Alice and Gabrielle try to take care of their siblings.

Chapter 23 Sister Sister

  
  


“Shelly… Michelle. Goddamnit pick up! It’s important!” Alice snaps at the still ringing phone.

“What?!” Shelly appears beside her, causing her soon to be ex wife to jump a little.

“Chris is in the hospital.” Alice informs her, leaning back in the driver’s seat of her parked car.

“This hospital?” Shelly nods to the building outside the window.

“Yes.”

“Why is he in a hospital? Was it a skating accident? Or something public?” Shelly frowns.

“I’m not sure. Jeff called me. I dropped Bruce off at his grandfather’s and since I couldn’t get ahold of you, decided to drive to Souix Falls but Uncle Cas just zapped me here and went inside while I decided to call you again. I think there was something involving a crazed stalker.”

“Shit.” Shelly covers her face. “Riley’s going to be out for blood.”

“She won’t be the only one.” Alex scrunches up her face. “Mom’s going to be on the verge of mass destruction. I don’t know if I should go to her or Riley.”

“Riley. Auntie Miqa’s got Jeff and Uncle Raph there at the very least. I’m going to check in then go get Ben.” Shelly starts to move to hug her wife, but catches herself and disappears instead.

“You still could have hugged me, you know.” Alice says quietly to no one. Shelly can’t give her what she needs as a wife, but does giving that up have to mean she loses her best friend, too? Maybe. Maybe one day, Shelly will forgive her. It doesn’t matter though, not right now. Right now, Riley needs a big sister to lean on.

“Hello?” Shelly knocks on the door to the apartment. It’s pretty pointless as she’s already inside, but it’ll give them a little warning. The last thing she needs to see is her baby cousin and little brother in flagrante or even just au natural. “Ben! Abigail!” She shouts. “There’s an emergency!” But there’s no response. “Fine, I guess I’ll just have to call you. Little pain in the ass.” She snaps up her phone and dials Ben’s number. Much to her surprise she can hear it ringing in the bedroom. Did he forget it? Or is something wrong?

“Ben? Abby-girl?” Shelly slowly opens the bedroom door. Ben’s phone is on the dresser along with one she doesn’t recognize. It has a pretty cool case on it, the back is all bedazzled with a large flattened marble like those flower vase bead thingys only it’s oval and all swirly inside kind of like mother of pearl or rainbow glitter inside. She picks it up but for some reason it makes her feel a little strange, though she’s not sure why. It doesn’t matter she’ll ask about it later.

No one’s in the bathroom or closet but the curtain on the bed is closed off. Maybe they just didn’t hear her. It is relatively early. There’s only one thing to do.

“WAKE UUUUUUP!!!!” Shelly rips the curtain open while dousing the bed with a sudden downpour of freezing cold rain. She even includes a small lightening bolt that thunders, but doesn’t really strike anything. Oddly enough only Ben is there laying on the covers in boxers and a tank top. Somehow he’s not only still asleep but he has a small smile on his face. While it’s kind of adorable, it’s not the adorable expression of a bewildered Ben looking at her like she’s lost her mind, so confused he forgets to be angry like she expected. “Ben?” She snaps everything dry and crawls onto the bed to shake his shoulder.

There’s no response. He’s warm, though, and breathing. There’s a heartbeat. As far as he can tell nothings out of order. He’s just not waking up.

“Mom?” Shelly calls out to her, hoping she’s not too busy. “I need a little help here? Ben won’t wake up.” Her short equally golden toned mother appears beside her. “I even screamed at him and doused the entire bed in ice water.”

“Why?” Gabrielle looks up at her ridiculously tall daughter.

“Because he’s cute when he’s bewildered and surprised.” Shelly shrugs. “Plus if my Abby-gale was there it would make her mad and might loose her temper and break down and scream and cry and eventually feel better. Plus I thought it would be hilarious.”

“That’s my girl.” her mother snickers and kneels on the bed next to him. “Wow, he really is Sam’s son.”She gives him a once over.

“Well, he looks more like Uncle Dean. You know. Face wise.” Shelly motions to her face, making her mother cringe a little.

“Well, that ruins the sight for me.” Gabrielle scrunches up her nose.

“Mom, gross. So what’s wrong?”

“Someone put him to sleep.”

“No shit, mom. Who? How? What do we do to wake him up? Will he just sleep until he dies?”

“I don’t know who. Probably a witch, it feels like witchcraft. Did you look for a hex bag?”

“Um.” Shelly frowns and snaps every object in the apartment she knows about invisible. “No, no hex bags.”

“Well, then I have no idea without research, but I’d try true love’s kiss or something to start. Let me get your uncle.” Gabrielle stretches her arms. “He has a better eye for the simple stuff. I mean, yeah, this is simple stuff., but I can’t see it that well and I don’t want to accidentally trigger something.”

“But true love’s kiss you’re fine with?”

“Yeah. Unless someone’s managed to create a curse activated by pure and unconditional love. In which case everyone we know and love is fucked beyond reason and we’ll all die horrible, horrible deaths at the hands of a monster so far beyond what Luci was, we’ll plead with the darkness herself to save us through complete and utter annihilation of every fiber of our being.” Shelly just sighs and rolls her eyes, before realizing something.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, mom. I hate it when you and Auntie Miqa are fighting.”

“That was a nihilistic joke, Michelle. And it was completely unrelated to Michael in every way.” She snaps at her daughter.

“Not that. I got that. Chris is in the hospital. He was kidnapped by a crazy fan, raped and then stabbed repeatedly when the police arrived. How the fuck the police found him before we even knew he was missing, I’ll never no, but yeah. You weren’t told yet, were you.”

“What the hell…”

“Yeah, I know. A million questions. Alot to unpack, so yeah, Uncle Raph is there making sure everything goes perfectly, so he won’t be able to come for a while. I’ll go get someone to kiss Ben awake. You go be a sister or whatever. Uncle Raph’s taking care of Chris and his surgeons and Alice is there for Riley, so Auntie Miqa’s stuck with the weirdest fucking thing he’s ever done.” Shelly gets up off the bed.

“Right.” Gabrielle nods. “Ben’s not in any danger. So.. that’s just so fucking Michael isn’t it? The weirdest fucking thing she’s ever done is have a perfectly ordinary human friendship with a perfectly ordinary human.” She takes a breath and closes her eyes. “Okay, I’ll go see what Michael needs. I’d reccommend you’d take Ben back to his mother.”

“Mmmm, I can’t. His mom’s barely functional and he needs to stay here because the faer folk are acting up and he’s technically a hell of a first born to steal. Apparently the fact that I don’t exist in his thread of existence makes me not count as his big sister.” Shelly shakes her head. “Alright, don’t worry. I got this. Go take care of Auntie Miqa. I’ll take care of Ben. I promise.”

“Don’t do anything rash.” Her mother cautions her. “And don’t worry about Bruce. Your father is taking good care of him.”

“I know.” Shelly says quietly. She doesn’t even smile when her mother snaps up a stepstool to stand on so she can give her little girl a kiss on the cheek and a comforting hug without making her bend over.

“Everything will be alright, Shelly Belly.” Gabrielle gives her a squeeze. “I promise.” Shelly just nods.”Raph will be able to leave Chris’ side at some point. If you need me, just call and I’ll be here.”

“I know, mom.” Shelly gives her mother a squeeze and lets go. “Later.”

“Later.”

“You busy?” Jeb chokes on his drink as Shelly appears behind him at the picnic table outside the garage.

“I will be in about half an hour.” He wipes his face with a paper towel. “Why?”

“Well, Ben’s been put into an enchanted sleep. But Uncle Raph’s busy making sure Chris survives surgery, so we don’t know what’s going on, but true love’s kiss is a safe possible cure so you need to come with me and give him a kiss so he can maybe wake up because after being raped and stabbed by an psycho stalker, Chris is going to need his big brother. Plus, you know, nobody wants Ben to sleep forever except for whoever did this, I guess. And yes, a lot of questions, but this is all I know given it just happened. So if you could just come with me for a minute.” Shelly motions him away from the table.

“Hold on, give me a second.” Jeb covers his eyes and thinks. “Okay, Ben is in an enchanted sleep and you think true loves kiss might wake him up. So you come to me because you don’t fucking understand that while I do love him dearly, I’m not ‘in love’ with my best friend.”

“Bull-fucking shit.” Shelly snaps. “This is what pisses me off about you. You love him and everybody can see it but Ben. Worship and adoration just shines out of your eyes every time you’re around him. You’d kill for him, you’d die for him, you’d follow him into hell and back and don’t deny it. But no, you can’t give him true love’s kiss. You’re just going to keep it all bottled up until it explodes in everybody’s face and hurts everyone you care about. Especially Ben.”

“Based on that logic, you’re in love with Abigail.” Jeb retorts.

“She’s my precious little baby cousin and I absolutely love and adore her. I’m so proud and pleased with everything she’s become. So yeah, I’m going to brag about her and stuff.” Shelly puts her hands on her hips, looking beyond offended.

“But you think I can’t feel the same way about Ben unless I also want to fuck him, which I don’t. Okay, so I have a little man crush that’s turning into a sort of protective big brother thing I think. Sure, I haven’t known him as long as you, but I know things about him you don’t. I’ve seen his strength and sense of responsibility, his skill, dedication, the natural gift of command that comes out in a crisis. I’d kill for him but he’d never ask me too and I’d die for him because no one who’s been in combat along side him could feel any other way.

“I used to wonder why he lacked confidence and just crumbled under the mistakes when he made them, but I understand now. It’s funny, honestly, finding out he’s part angel kind of makes him seem more human. I go with you and kiss him just in case it works, but it’s not romantic or hormonal or lustful or anything. We are brothers with ties forged in the blood of the battle field. I don’t expect you to understand. But is it too much to ask you to just shut the fuck up!” Jeb stands up. The two just stare at each other with hostility not nearly as fierce as it usually is.

“True love just has to be pure and unconditional love.” Shelly sighs, looking away.

“Oh. I… I don’t know. Maybe, I don’t know.” Jeb rubs the back of his neck.

“Maybe that’s more of a parent thing.”

“It’s definitely a Ben thing.” Jeb comments. “I think Harahel would be a better bet than either of his parents to be honest. They both love him of course, but Ben learned to love from somebody and they weren’t exactly there to teach him. If anyone in his life loves him completely, purely, and unconditionally, it’d be him.”

“I’ll try him first then. If you really want me to, but you seriously don’t believe you love him enough?”

“To be honest I don’t think I’ve ever loved anything right.” Jeb confesses, not entirely sure why he just told her something like that.

“Yeah.” She says quietly, looking down at the ground, then disappears.

Gabrielle walks down the hall to the waiting area outside the operating room. Alice is there sitting next to Riley, who’s surprisingly not pacing like a caged wild cat. Instead she’s just leaning against her adopted sister, her arms wrapped around Alice and her face buried in her sister’s chest. Michael of course, is standing next to Jeff,looking like he’s going to murder someone or curse their family to the seventh generation.

“Michael.” She takes care to say it correctly as he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for teasing. “I came as soon as I heard. Any news?”

“It’s going well. He can’t feel a thing. A couple of the stab wounds around the heart were miraculously shallow and caused minimal damage.” Michael replies in enochian. “They’re replacing some veins right now and will have to work on his lungs. There was some damage, but nothing fatal. Raphael’s assured me that there’s no problem in making sure Chris fully recovers in a reasonable amount of time. The biggest issue will be his hands and feet.

“They were bound too tightly for too long. If he’d been found any later, they would have been beyond repair and he’d have lost them completely. It’s going to be a long difficult recovery. It will be a complete recovery. Raphael’s assured me that he can manage that without raising any questions. Even if Riley is not banned from the Olympics, they won’t be going next year.”

“Okay.” Gabrielle says quietly, putting her arm around Michael’s back. “I brought honey sticks.” She holds a few up. Michael just takes one and bites the top off. “Cas is up in heaven holding down the fort so I can stay here as long as you need me to.”

“Thank you.” Michael puts his arm around her as well. “I’ll be okay. It’s the children I’m worried about.”

“They’ll really need you, I bet. But I know you’re really upset and angry about this whole thing, so Dean and I will take care of looking into it. He’ll handle the human side of things and I’ll take care of making sure all involved get their just desserts, in my own particular style of course.” She adds, just to be clear.

“I think that would be a good idea.” Michael says quietly. “Thank you for being here.”

“Of course.” She gives him a squeeze. “You are my sister. And I love you no matter how much you piss me off.”

“I love you, too. I honestly don’t mean to undermine your authority. I really just wanted to help. It’s too much for one angel to do alone. I never could have kept things together in heaven even as well as I did without Raphael. Even then I let him take on too much.”

“Yeah, that did kind of go to hell. But things are different now, calmer,more peaceful. Aside from being the final word in justice and judgement and things like that, I actually have fairly little to do there. The Abyss pretty much runs itself, though I have to interfere with the dead pagans. Most things I can delegate to Cas if I have to. 

“It took me forever to craft punishments based on the concept of restorative justice and not just punitive. But with access to Luci’s earlier judgements and Alex and the librarian’s help I’ve gotten through the most common violations. Yada yada yada, it’s pretty calm in general. Except for you reversing my decisions. But okay, I get you didn’t really know you were doing that. Not that I was going to bring any of this up.” She sighs. “Chris is going to be okay.”

“Is he?”

“Yeah, he’s going to be forced to go without things he’s had for the longest time, struggle in ways he never expected, and everything will change. But something good can come out of this and he’ll grow stronger and better as a person in ways none of us could have predicted. And who knows, it could be everything he needed to learn and experience to get where he truly wants to be. Obviously it’s the worst possible path to take to get there, but he’ll end up being okay.” Gabrielle reassures him. “You know how I know?” Michael just hugs his little sister tighter and kisses the top of her head.

“Because it happened to you?”

“No. Well, Yes, but it’ll happen because he has us all here. People who love him, support him and understand suffering in various ways. Chris has a support system like no other. As long as he has someone to listen to him without judgement. You’re a lot better at that than you used to be.”

“Thank you.”

“And don’t worry, I brought plenty of honey sticks.” Gabrielle opens her purse which is filled to the brim with them. “I’d have brought you a jar and a spoon but that might look a little weird. Plus if I tried to get any, I’d probably lose an arm.”

“Probably?” Michael grins and just let’s his pain in the ass little sister keep hugging him. It’s surprising comforting. He’s forgotten she could be this sweet.


	24. Hell and a Handbasket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail has an errand to run..  
>  Tris and Jeb's errand is to find her  
> Shelly is an annoying ridiculous pain in the ass as usual.

Chapter 24 Hell and a Handbasket.

  
  
  
  
  


“I hesitate to ask,”Rowena leans over Abigail’s shoulder as she studies the arcana. “BUt don’t you find the constant screaming and cries of anguish a wee bit distracting?”

“Hmm?” Abigail turns and seeing her, takes out the ear plugs. “Hello, Rowena. Is something wrong with your vacation?”

“No. No, I was just.. Concerned.” She says carefully. “I was approached by something this weekend who suggested that now might be a good time to claim the throne for myself.”

“Really?” Abigail doesn’t seem surprised. “Is this the first time?”

“Oh, it’s been hinted at a few times, in a testing the waters kind of way. But this is the first time it’s been directly stated.”

“That took longer than I expected.” The Queen of Hell comments, not the least disturbed. “Do you want to be? I have no problem being the power behind the throne, if you need me to be.” She turns the page.

“This is obviously a test, majesty. You’re not usually so clumsy.”

“It’s not a test at all. I only accepted the throne out of a sense of duty, responsibility and heartbreak. But it might end up being a point of contention within the family. If there’s a matter of civil war or attempted upheaval, there are so many other things I’d rather be doing.” Abigail sits back on the throne. “Really, the only reasons I’d have for staying queen now are the power, the extra time and the challenge of accomplishing the task of turning hell into a place of reform and redemption. I sincerely doubt this is the only place I could get any of those things.”

“And the fact that every creature in hell is now in absolute agony and suffering that echoes through every hall penetrating even the throne room is part of that reformation plan?” Rowan asks cautiously.

“No. Demons were obviously involved in the kidnapping and attempted murder of my cousin. Since I have no idea which ones, and no one was willing to come forwards, I’m punishing all of them. They all need to understand how unacceptable that is. It is getting a little annoying, though.” She snaps her fingers and the screaming stops. “Do you want to be Queen of Hell? If you do, the throne is yours. Think it over and tell me your decision when you’ve decided.”

“I will.” Rowena looks at her suspiciously. It’s gotten even more impossible to know what this woman is thinking. 

“Stay a little while. I need your help with something, but first, I need to speak to my subjects.” Abigail puts a finger to her lips. “Given the fact that many of you were not involved with this affair, I’ve decided to show mercy. I think however that I have made my point. Do not do anything to harm my friends or family or I will place everybody back where they were and take a very long vacation. Granted, should I know who to punish, no one else will have to suffer along side them.” She pauses a moment to take it all in. “And bear in mind this is far from the worst I can do to you.”

Rowena just stares at her. Aside from the absolutely breathtaking jewelery on her left hand, the thing that catches her attention the most is the empty coldness in her eyes. She’s not calm, she’s not angry, or irritated, or conflicted, happy, or excited, all the things Rowena’s learned to read in her eyes when the rest of her expression is stone. Along with the changes in her actions and world view, this is the most alarming thing so far. Something has clearly broken inside her. Something important because in Abigail’s eyes, the window to the soul, is nothing.

“Tris.” A soft gentle voice invades her dreams. “It’s time to wake up.” 

“Okay,” She puts down her lance and dismounts her horse only to give a start when she blinks and finds the golden nephilim beside her. “Jesus Christ, Shelly!”

“When did you fall asleep yesterday?” Shelly asks her, her voice still quiet and soft. This is not how her voice usually is. It’s actually fairly terrifying.

“Mmm, three maybe?” Tris pretends not to be alarmed and rubs her eyes. “ Why? Is… is Abigail okay? Is she… did… she didn’t…” Tris sits up suddenly unable to think of any other possibility than that Abigail’s killed herself. She shut down even further, pushing her best friend and cousins away, her family,making sure Tris was taken care of. Oh god, why didn’t she see it before? All she could think about was how much she hurt and Chris, too. “Please just tell me.”

“Chris was kidnapped by a fan who raped and tried to kill him. Somehow the police found him before anyone even knew he was missing. He’s alive but he’s in the hospital and still in surgery. I’ll take you there if you like, but first tell me where Abigail is. Ben’s been put in an enchanted sleep and mom can’t quite figure out how to wake him.”

“If she’s not home or otherwise reachable, she’s in hell, working. You could email her and hope she checks it or go down and get her yourself.” Tris replies, slightly annoyed.

“I can’t. She locked me out of hell. Ben could, but well, enchanted sleep. I’m definitely not sending Uncle Cas and Uncle Dean. Could you go?”

“I could, though since I’m no longer a vampire, there’s nothing I can do if she ordered them not to allow me entrance. I don’t have much confidence in my fighting abilities now that I don’t have the strength speed and fangs I did.” Tris confesses. “Could you get one of the lesser angels to do it?”

“Maybe but would she even listen to any of them long enough to hear what’s going on? And I’m not sure how many it would take to break through hell’s defenses if they have to fight their way in.”

“That is a good point.”

“Right. Here, I’ll go get you a military escort.” Shelly grabs her arm and drags her through the ether back to Abigail’s apartment. Her bedroom more accurately where some guy is sitting next to the bed on the bench from the vanity. A strange indian man is sitting on the bed beside Ben.

“Hello?” She gives them an odd look.

“My name is Jebediah Tulle, you can call me Jeb. I’m Ben Winchester’s brother in arms and closest friend. I assume you’re that woman’s friend.” The White guy says cooly.

“Yes.” She responds equally cooly. “Are you my military escort? Are you prepared to go to the depths of hell itself?”

“For Ben? Without hesitation.” He stands up defiantly. Tris just rolls her eyes.

“And this guy?”

“Oh that’s Dark Harahel the badass from the mirror verse,” Shelly informs her. “He’s Ben’s guardian angel, well his nanny I guess. This Harahel is a boy. But judging by his baby Ben photos, they have the same taste in clothes.”

“Undhi refuses to let me wear what I want. So I may have lived vicariously through Ben for a year or two. He was just so adorable, though.” The angel confesses.

“What was your favorite one?”Shelly asks.

“The Bunny,” Both Jeb and Harahel say at once.

“Ohhh, yessss.” Shelly gives a fond smile.

“Why the HELL are you talking about this when CHRIS is in the goddamned hospital and Abigail is unreachable. How is this the time for fucking Bunny costumes?” Tris demands.

“There’s always time for Bunny costumes.” Shelly snaps her fingers making a puffy fluffy white footie pajamas with a big fluffy rabbit tail and hood appear on her little brother. “Oh,I am so making them take footie pictures together at Christmas.” She gives a smile that seems to rub Harahel the wrong way. “Alright. You two ready?”

“Well, unless you’re going to give us some magical protective armor of invisibility we’re as good as we’ll ever be.” Jeb’s sarcasm makes Tris smile a little bit. Shelly is just so goddamn annoying.

“That’s an idea.” Shelly considers and pulls them together, giving each of them a big firm kiss on the forehead, leaving a silver mark right in the center. “There. All damage taken is halved, increased stamina, auto healing spell, magic resistance, and here.” She hands them obnoxiously large plastic rings. “+8 Charisma. I’d suggest Tris wears both of these when dealing with Abigail. You’re both pissy and/or concerned adn she is clearly in no mood to tolerate people being pissed or concerned at her.” Shelly crosses her arms. “Now, remember, follow the yellow brick road.” She snaps them away and turns to face Harahel who’s giving her a look of both contempt and irritation. “Excuse me, but have I done something to you?”

“You just remind me of your mother a great deal.” He says curtly.

“Well, fuck you, too.” She glares back at him. “And yes, I do know you mean the nightingale, so double fuck you! That bitch left me with a fear of flying so crippling I can’t even take a goddamn airplane. It’s hard enough taking the roast beef to see Hela and traveling between dimensions. There is no way I’m as obnoxious and annoying as either of them, so get bent.” Shelly plops down next to her brother and holds him for a good long while, not saying anything.

  
  


“Are you kidding me?” Jeb looks down at his perfectly good work clothes turned into old baggy, shaggy farmers garb with straw glued all over it and a floppy pointed hat, also with straw superglued to it. His mini gun has been replaced with a ridiculously large blunderbus. Tris of course is dressed in a blue and white checked dress with a white apron. Her hair is in long pigtails, and she has silver shoes on her feet. There’s also a little black dog on wheels attached to the bow on the back of her dress by a wire. It follows her when she moves to look at Jeb.

“The fuck?”She frowns seeing not only his attire, but a basket full of apple shaped things sitting on what is absolutely a yellow brick road leading into the gates of hell with no one on it. 

“I hate that woman.” Jeb scowls.

“Let’s just go.” Tris picks up the basket and starts walking.

“I know she and Alice are getting a divorce but this is just unneccessary humiliation. I’m tired of her treating me like an idiot when she didn’t even get your dress and shoes right.”

“She’s clearly referencing the book, which was a social commentary on why they should replace the gold standard as the bedrock of the nations finances by using silver instead. The yellow brick road which brings them nothing but trouble, is the gold standard and the silver slippers are the solution to their problems that they had all along without knowing it. It also accented the plight of the farmers in the current economic system. 

“Plus it was also a feminist work partially inspired by his wife and mother in law, prominent sufferagettes at the time. Shelly likes the movie more though, calling Glinda the greatest movie villain of all time. But Abigail prefers the books so this particular set up is for her. Especially the silver kiss of the good witch of the north.” Tris points out as she leads the way.

“So I guess I am stupid.” Jeb sighs.

“No, I’ve just heard them both have this argument so much I can repeat it by heart.” Tris sighs. “Anyways, that’s not what the scarecrow is. He goes from being born to being brilliant with in just a few weeks and a head full of needles. It takes experience and confidence to be wise and knowledgeable. That’s the character of the scarecrow.”

Are those for me?” An obnoxious demon a few feet in front of them, dresssed in 1920’s street kid clothes, comes into view.

“Sure catch.” Tris throws one jelly filled plastic apple at him. He does not catch. It pops, splashing him with a weird gel that bursts into raging flames. “Sorry about that. I thought they were just something weird and amusing from Shelly.” Laughter from the other demons implies that it’s amusing to them at least.

“That kind of makes me want to try this ridiculous thing out.” Jeb looks at the blunderbuss again.

“Well, that’s one thing you can say about Shelly. She is ridiculous, but awesomely so at times.” Tris continues on her way as the poor demon becomes a smouldering pile of nothing, evaporating into darkness.

“I don’t know if she’s more ridiculously awesome as she is awesomely ridiculous.” Jeb considers. Tris laughs a little.

“Yeah,” She smiles, “Plus you have to be in the mood for her or she’s just obnoxiously annoying.”

“Honestly, I never knew she could be anything else.”Jeb confesses and raises the gun, aiming as best he can when Tris kicks open two large ornate doors in front of them. Jeb finds this a little impressive, given how thick they are. Tris just look a little discouraged. There’s no one inside what appears to be a throne room. The road continues out the back way to some of the more newly created halls. It stops where a red headed woman that Jeb also doesn’t know stands in front of a closing portal.

“Keep that thing open!” Tris snaps, running towards it like her life depended on it.

“I see Michelle has paid you a visit.” The redhead raises an eyebrow, letting it close.

“I need to talk to Abigail and I need to talk to her now.” Tris demands. The woman just smirks. “Rowena.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s very hard to take you seriously with a puppy speared to your arse.”

“Chris is in the hospital and Ben’s been enchanted. I think she’d want to hear about that right this second.”

“The hospital? Why on earth would they have him taken to the hospital. No one even knew he was kidnapped. It’s not like he broke his bones on live TV.” Rowena puts her hands on her hips, looking genuinely confused. “Or is mommy giving him a little tough love for reckless behavior.”

“How do you know about Chris?” Tris demands, taking an apple out of the basket. 

“You’d be surprised how word gets around in this place. Who’s this mannikin by the way? The blushing benghali’s boy toy, maybe?” Rowena lookshim over.

“No,he’s Ben’s.” Tris replies.

“I’m his friend and brother. Who the hell are you?” He raises his gun to aim at Rowena.

“Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” Tris grins.

“I’m the best witch. And Queen Abigail’s regent when she herself cannot sit on the throne for one reason or another. I’m fairly sure she would not wish for anyone’s company on this little outing of hers.” Rowena warns them.

“I’m even more sure that she’d rather hear what I have to say to her anywhere other than right here, even where she is now.”

“She’s crossed over to Ben’s hell. Apparently, she forgot something there.”

“Reopen the portal.” Tris growls.


	25. Your Hell, Personalized At No Extra Charge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tris and Jeb enter Abigail's Hell  
> House Mother Abigail  
> Abigail loves her little cousins despite everything.  
> Chris makes a very big mistake and almost makes a worse one.
> 
> SERIOUS NON CON WARNING

Chapter 25 Your Hell, Personalized At No Extra Charge.

**  
  
**

Tris gasps as soon as they step through the portal.

“What?” Jeb looks around but all he can see is a normal street with normal college students heading into a large frat house.

“Oh, God, I know what this is.” She stares at the building. “It can’t possibly be, but it is. But she’s not dead, so…”

“Jesus, just tell me.”

“This is the night JJ killed himself. Or you know, maybe someone had a traumatically devastating experience in the same fraternity on the same day, year, and party with all the same sorority girls and… what if this is JJ’s hell? But do they really send suicides to hell? And how would he be in a hell in another thread of existence?” She rambles.

“Who’s JJ? And why does any of this matter in regards to finding Abigail.”

“JJ, Jamal, was Abigail’s boyfriend of five years. He proposed to her and she told him the truth about her and her family. He freaked out of course, and said he needed some time to think about all this. After several weeks of no contact, Abigail went to a party at a fraternity. They fought. He killed himself before she even left the house. She won’t say anything more or even talk about it. It absolutely destroyed her. She still hasn’t gotten over it, but it’s only been like three years. This doesn’t make any sense. Why would this be here?” her voice starts to sound a little panicked.

“C’mon, pull it together. If it’s either his or her hell then she’s probably in there, right?” Jeb points to the frat house. “

“Right.” Tris nods and heads towards the entrance. Nobody takes notice of them. “You know what she looks like, right?”

“Ben’s sent me a thousand pictures since he’s been here so yeah. I couldn’t miss her if I tried.” He shakes his head.

“Alright, I’m going to look for JJ. You go look around the party for Abigail. I’m not sure how late or early it is. She’ll be in a pink summer dress with flowers in her hair. And she’ll be wearing her hair down in rippling waves. I spend over an hour getting it just right.” Tris informs him, but doesn’t go anywhere.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you hesitating?” Jeb takes hold of her arm. “You looked like you were willing to rip that woman’s throat out in order to get here and now you’re stalling?”

“This is the most devastating painful thing that’s ever happened to her. She has never been able to bring herself to talk about it to anyone. Not even me and she tells me everything. I think… I think maybe she would have talked to her uncle about it, but he’s dead and gone, thanks to Ben’s fuck ups. How would you feel about the prospect of watching the worst most traumatizing event in his life? Knowing there’s nothing you can do to change it or stop it. How eager would you be to watch it happen?”

“In this situation with him most likely reliving it? I’d charge in without hesitation to pull him  out of it. Not stand here being afraid of how horrible it might be. Pull yourself together 

woman! She needs you, probably more than she ever needed you before. Now let’s split up and drag her out of this hell before she breaks into little pieces like you think she will.” He grabs her wrist. “Or are you just going to abandon her to torment so you don’t have to see it.”

“You don’t understand!!”

“Suck it up!” He slaps her across the face. She just looks at him, surprised. “This is a rescue operation now. Focus on that. We find Abigail, and get her the fuck out of here as soon as possible. Are we clear?” He looks into her eyes. Tris nods. “Alright. Let’s get going.”

**  
  
**

Tris walks up the stairs towards the second floor. No one notices her or speaks to her. When one passes by her and stumbles they pass right through her. She’s gone up there before. Not that Abigail ever knew. She’d go when everyone was asleep and investigate. What were his secrets? What did he really think? Was he faithful? Was he strong enough to handle the truth? Was he good enough for Abigail? 

He didn’t have any secrets worth noting. He adored her even knowing what a difficult control freak of a girl she is. He understood her as well as anyone could from outside their world. He was absolutely faithful. But he was obviously not strong enough and he wasn’t even close to good enough for her. She held back so much and he barely managed to deal with what was left. She would have given up absolutely everything, her family, her future, her entire world if he asked her to. He would have held her back.

But Tris had faith in Abigail. Eventually she’s see it. That’s part of why she pushed Abigail to tell him everything. Because if she didn’t, she would have committed herself to him and his world entirely. Abigail’s just like that. When she makes a decision, she follows it through. And she’s so stubborn. You can’t tell her anything. Somehow her Uncle always knew what to say, what to do in order to get her to reconsider and make better choices. At least that’s what Chris said. He’d know. He’d always paid attention to her.

JJ’s not in his room. Not yet. But he will be. So she just sits down in a dark corner and waits.

Jeb makes his way through the party. It took him a second or two to realize he doesn’t have to try and squeeze through and can just walk through people.

“Is everyone wearing the nail polish?” He hears a firm husky voice from the center of a group of sorority girls.

“Um, I lost mine.” One girl raises her hand a bit timidly.

“Alright, sit down. The rest of you pair up. The one leftover goes with Jillian. I need to talk to Jamal.”

“You know, you don’t have to say yes.” The one in violet purple says. “I mean, you’re just seventeen. You don’t have to make that kind of decision yet.”

“Wait, she’s seventeen? But she’s in her junior year.” Lilac dress blinks. 

“I skipped two grades and got early admission.” Spring Green reminds them.

“I keep forgetting that. Hey, Abs, does this mean you’ll get taller?” Lilac teases.

“I sure as hell hope so.” 

Jeb walks through them to see Abigail sitting at a picnic table taking the polish off a girl’s fingers. She looks so young. Much like Ben did in basic, despite being so damn tall. She’s about seven months older than Ben is he thinks.

“Abigail.” He walks over to grab her but she doesn’t notice him. She’s solid, but immovable. 

“Does everyone else have their makeup kit?”

“Which one?”

“Any one so long as it’s from Luci’s Garden. And your bracelets?” All the girls raise their arms to show off their matching bracelets with the sorority’s greek letters on each side of a pretty plastic color tinted pearl.

“Didn’t we go over this at the house?”

“No, she was late today.”

“Jesus Christ, this thing with JJ must be serious business.” Pastel Blue comments to Rose Pink next to her.

“It’s a fucking marriage proposal, of course it’s serious.”

“I am right here, ladies. And I apologize for my tardiness but the twins tried to blackmail me into taking them with me tonight. It took me a while to tie them up securely enough that they won’t escape the closet for at least an hour.” The remaining girls laugh.

“Little Riley still after your man?”

“She thinks she’s so subtle.” Abigail sighs, rolling her eyes. “She’s thirteen. If she thinks a nineteen year old would go for a thirteen year old… a nineteen year old I’ve been seeing all through high school, she’s got another thing coming. In truth she’s lucky it’s Jamal she’s throwing herself at. I’d hate to have to kill someone before I graduate.”

“She’ll get over it. You just have to get JJ to sit her down and have a serious talk with her. Yeah, it’ll break her heart, but it has to be done.”

“I’d rather just let them learn to accept it gradually. If getting engaged doesn’t stop them then we’ll have to have the talks. But I’d rather they realize it on their own.” She looks a little uncomfortable. The girl who’s nail’s she painting laughs a little.” What?”

“I don’t think you tied them up well enough.” The girl nods back to behind Abigail. Abigail doesn’t turn around, though Jeb does to see an absolutely beautiful young girl peering around the corner at Abigail.

“Of course. Let me finish this.”

“Hey, I brought you a drink.” Some guy hands the girl, Chris, Jeb thinks, Chris was the beautiful one and Riley is the handsome one.

“Thank you.” Chris goes to take a sip.

“NOT ONE DROP, Junior Trickster.” Abigail raiser her voice, still not turning around. “And you sir, take back the drink and leave. Chris and Riley are thirteen years old.” The frat boy takes it quickly back and gets the hell out of the room. “Now you, thing two, get over here right now. You too, Riley.”

“She’s not here.” Chris confesses. “I mean, in the room. She is in the house somewhere, though.”

“How long have you been here and why aren’t you with Riley?” Abigail demands

“Um, Riley wanted to go talk to JJ.” Chris looks down at her feet.

“Where?”

“In.. in his room, But it’s been a little while, so…” Chris looks uncomfortable.

“Go get her and both of you go sit in the car while I talk to Jamal. If I catch you in this house again, I am calling your mother and having him take you home himself.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Chris runs off.

“And I thought going to college would help me get rid of them.” Abigail sighs, and holds up the nail brush, examining the girl’s hands. “There you go. Remember always test your drink, no matter what you’re drinking. Now if you’ll excuse me. I have to go rescue my boyfriend and then have a little talk.”

“Good Luck.” The girls in summer dresses all say as she gets up.

“Thank you.”

Jeb can’t help but feel sorry for the young girl he sees before him. It’s a little adorable how long it takes her to reach the stairs. And so sad since he knows JJ is going to be killing himself tonight. Is he really, though? Ben told him about Riley crashing the funeral like a tornado, demanding to see her bother and accusing Abigail of murdering JJ.

Did she? Could she have? Given how she’s treating Ben now, he can imagine she had something to do with it. Maybe he did something? She seems very protective of her sorority sisters and her little cousins. If he did something to any of them, he can see her destroying him in cold blood, something he knows Ben could never do to a civilian.

He hears someone yelling in that language Ben uses to talk to Shelly with sometimes. Abigail runs up the stairs to the bathroom so fast, Jeb can barely keep up.

Tris just stands there after passing through the door. What the fuck is she looking at? Is Jamal actually cheating on Abigail with some white girl? No. Nonononono. Without considering she goes to snatch that bitch by the hair and pull her off him, but her finger’s pass through. Is this what he did? Is that what he did? That explains what they fought about. No wonder Abigail doesn’t want to fucking talk about it. This little whore doesn’t even really seem to know what she’s doing, either. It’s kind of pathetic. They’re not even fully undressed, just pants shoved down, skirt pushed up. After a minute, he grabs hold of her waist and rolls her over, letting Tris better see her face.

“Oh you boka choda bastard kuttar baccha!” Tris finds it incredibly frustrating that she can’t actually beat the shit out of either of them. Riley? Thirteen year old fucking Riley! If Abigail did kill him, she was more than justified.

“Relax. He’s too drunk to even really know who she is. If he won’t up in the morning, he wouldn’t have even remembered it happened.” She hears from the corner.

“Abs?” Tris turns to see Abigail sitting calmly on the pile of laundry.

“He can barely even be considered conscious. He’s definitely way past being able to consent. Sure the first thought is that Riley’s being taken advantage of by a predatory adult, but really he’s pretty much being raped by a thirteen year old girl.” It’s unbelievable to Tris that she can say this so easily without a trace of anger. “Not that I learned this until much later.” Abigail doesn’t even look at Tris. “Have a seat. I suppose you might as well see what happened.” Abigail pats the basket next to her.

“This… what the fuck!” Tris sinks down next to her.

“Don’t worry it doesn’t last long.” Abigail reassures her uncomfortable friend. Sure enough JJ collapses on top of the girl seconds later.

“I love you.” The almost pleading tone in Riley’s voice is kind of pathetic.

“I love you, too, Abigail.” Tris can see Riley’s heart breaking when he mumbles those words. She almost feels sorry for the horrible creature when she shoves him off of her and runs out of the room, clearly starting to cry.

“You killed him, didn’t you.” Tris says quietly.

“Oh, no. I wanted to, but I couldn’t then. I believed I did for years. Or at least, I wasn’t sure sometimes. I know I didn’t, but mostly I was convinced I had or at least that it was my fault. I can see things a lot more clearly now. “

“I’d only be mad you didn’t have me do it for you, if you did.” Tris looks over at her freind. Abigail rolls her eyes.

“Just watch.” She leans back against the wall.

“Chris is in the hospital and Ben’s in an enchanted sleep.” Tris takes the moment to inform her.

“I know. I’ve been given reports about Chris. As for Ben, he’s fine. I just promised I’d be there when he wakes and I wasn’t sure when I’d be done here. I’ll take care of that after I take care of this.”

“You what?” Tris blinks. “You can’t just… that is so fucked up. I … What the hell is going on with you? You don’t treat people this way. You just tossed me aside like I’m absolutely nothing to you. That email to Chris was almost cruel. This isn’t like you, Abigail!”

“Of course it’s like me. It’s me unencumbered by sentimentality and emotional nonsense. I’m making the sensible practical decisions I never could before and I’m all the better for it.” Abigail continues to look at the passed out JJ. “HAven’t I done well by you? You’re a liability now that you’re human again, to me, to yourself. You no longer have a place in this world. You never wanted to be part of it in the first place. You can call it throwing you away if you like, but I’m throwing you into a full service five star suite on piles of money and more options than you’ve ever had before. Or do you think I’ve unfairly compensated you? If so it’s open to discussion.”

“Fuck ‘Compensation’! What about our friendship?! Does that mean nothing to you?” Tris stands up.

“It meant everything to me.” Abigail admits, her tone as casual as if they were strangers discussing the weather. “Now it doesn’t. There’s nothing you can do for me that other’s can’t do better. And even if you could, I don’t have the time or desire to do what you’d need me to do. Turning you back was the stupidest thing I have ever done.”

The slap across the face Tris gives her only makes her slightly annoyed, which infuriates Tris even more. She wants to punch her, do something to bring her best friend back from this cold, heartless shell sitting beside her but she can’t. That would only push her further away. Abigail is just…. She’s broken somehow. Her mother’s death was just too much, and she broke. That has to be it.

“Get up JJ!” She hears a young Chris yell at the unconscious Jamal.” HEY!” he walks over and kicks him. “Look at me!” The bewildered young man blinks and starts to sit up, puttting himself back together automatically. “Look at me, you bastard!”

“What… What?”

“Look. At. Me.” Chris raises his arm, aiming a revolver straight at JJ’s head. “It’s bad enough you cheat on my Abigail, but to do it with my fucking twin!” This seems to sober JJ up at least enough to be terrified.

“What? Chris?”

“Yeah. It’s Chris and you raped my sister.” he releases the safety. “When you’re in hell, remember who sent you there.”

“CHRIS!” The younger Abigail opens the door. The child almost drops the gun. If his finger had been on the trigger already, he may well have just shot him automatically.”What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She strides over and takes the gun from him.

“He raped my sister!”

“What?”

“He raped Riley. She’s crying in the bathroom.” Chris angrily informs her. “I’m not lying. I saw him fucking her!” Abigail’s face gets cold as she takes the bullets from the gun. “Don’t call the police. Please. Don’t put Riley through that.”

“And murdering him in cold blood would have been better for you two?” She chides him. “Go take care of Riley.” Abigail reaches into her purse and tosses him a small lock pick kit. “I will take care of this and then we will leave.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was considering having JJ actually be the bad guy in this, but that just wasn't him. If it was Abigail would have spotted it and kicked his ass to the curb years before. And secondly, people really don't take the idea of men being raped or sexually assaulted by women seriously. At all, that insidious patriarchal toxic masculinity bullshit helped Chris and Abigail make the biggest mistake of their lives, and definitely helped Riley justify her actions to herself. Not that there is any justifying what she did, but she has never really admitted to herself what it is she did.


	26. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail's culpability in JJ's Death  
> Tris and Jeb find out what's wrong with Abigail.  
> Abigail's soul and body have a difference of opinion.   
> Abigail prevents some complications.

Chapter 26 Memories

  
  


Tris just watches as Chris leaves the room to go back to Riley. Abigail goes over to the dresser by the door and puts the gun in JJ’s underwear drawer. The bullets go in the trash.

“That’s actually Jamal’s gun. One of his frat brothers had taken it from him for his own safety tonight. I don’t know how Chris got a hold of it.” The current Abigail informs her as they watch the drama continue.

“Abigail?” Jamal puts a hand to his head, trying to process what’s going on. “W…”

“Don’t talk to me.” She grips the edge of the drawer. “I know damn well she’s the one who came on to you. She’d be stupid enough to try. I have absolutely no doubt she was beyond willing. I know you’d never force yourself on anyone. You’re not that kind. I could have eventually forgiven you if it was someone else. You’re scared, you’re confused, your drunk. But you’re a legal adult Jamal, and she’s THIRTEEN YEARS OLD!”   


“No… I… I couldn’t… I wouldn’t…” But he sounds unsure. “Not… Riley’s the girl?”

“Chris was about to murder you, Jamal.” Abigail reminds him. “They wouldn’t lie about something like this.” Tris can see Abigail shaking with restrained fury. JJ doesn’t say anything. He just looks bewildered and confused, maybe even horrified. The young Abigail blurs and glitches a little, like a corrupted file.

“Abigail…” JJ pleads when the glitching stops.

“Don’t worry. I’m not calling the police. This will absolutely destroy Riley’s life no matter what happens. If by some chance she’s been drinking, or worse… they have the olympic games coming up, Jamal. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What irreparable damage you’ve cause us? Chris is not going to let this go. Riley.. God only knows what she’ll do. If anyone else finds out about this, and they will… You are not going to go unpunished for this. Quite frankly I can’t think of anything I can possibly do to you that wouldn’t just make things worse for everybody.

“So all I’m going to do tonight is what I came here to do in the first place, and give you the strength to make your own decision.” Abigail takes the little potpourri bag Tris remembers her making and replaces the herb bundle is a hex bag. “Do what’s right for you and your family.” She takes a small vial from her purse and puts a drop of something on the bag. “Don’t you worry about me. Whatever you decide, I’ll be fine.”

“It’s his blood.” The current Abigail informs Tris.

“Just do the right thing.” The young Abigail closes the drawer. “And stay away from me and my family as long as you live. I mean it Jamal. I will never, ever forgive you for this.” She turns and walks out the door, shutting it not quite hard enough to slam.

“A million things were going through my mind, you know. What to believe, who to believe, what to do, what I wanted to do. I wanted to hurt all three of them, scream at them. I was so… emotional I couldn’t think straight. Honestly I don’t know what I’d do now with the information I had that night. I would at least have had the presence of mind to unload the round from the chamber.” The heartless woman just looks at the young man in front of her. He’s reeling from the exchange, obviously trying to process what just happened and failing.

Tris watches as JJ stumbles to his feet and heads to the door.

“Ahhh,” he trips on his own feet and goes to steady himself on the dresser, but he just ends up falling on the plywood DIY, knocking it over. His shoulders start to tremble and he hits the floor with a fist. For a moment it just looks like he’s going to pass out there. For all that she knows better, Tris prays that he does, that he just passes out and wakes in the morning and doesn’t remember anything. But he raises his head a little and reaches under the dresser between the fallen drawers, pulling out the gun.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be up against soon and this stuff should be over with.” Such a cold unconcerned, heartless comment. Tris has never felt as close to hating Abigail as she does at this moment. She knew how cold and ruthless her friend could be. As Queen of Hell she has to be sometimes. But to sit here and watch the love of her life blow his brains out, as if she was sitting through the pre-commercial clips at the movie theater… This is beyond broken, this is… this is darkness, corruption an inhuman coldness. It’s infuriating and terrifying at the same time.

It’s then that Tris sees Jeb just outside the door. Abigail passes right through him, falling on her knees when she sees JJ on the floor in front of her. There’s noises and sounds of alarm in the back ground. But it’s muted. Someone tried to pull her away, but she shakes them off and checks for a pulse, a heart beat, breathing any sign of life at all, as if he could still be alive with out half his brain.

“No…. nonononono.” Is all that’s coming out of her mouth as she lays herself over him clutching him to her.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.”The heartless Abigail stands up and claps the scene into a mist that dissolves around them into a small empty room with the young Abigail bent over, weeping in the center.

“What the hell!” Jeb gets a better grip on his gun, not that he’s very familiar with this thing. “Which one is Abigail?”

“The one on the floor.” Tris says with absolute certainty and grabs an apple. “Step away from her you monster.” A flick of the hand is all it takes for their weapons to vanish as well as their ridiculous costumes, and they find themselves unable to move.

“Abigail,” The heartless thing speaks softly to the one on the floor, “It’s alright,” She kneels down beside her. “It’s over now.” She puts a hand to her younger self’s cheek. “It wasn’t your fault. It was just a big mess and you had no way of knowing what Riley really did. Besides, you didn’t even consider that he’d die. That’s not what you intended at all.”

“I wanted him too.”Young Abigail confesses.

“Yes, maybe a little, but we didn’t tell him to kill himself which we absolutely could have. We just put the burden of making things right on him with the added strength to do it. How were we supposed to know he’d do that?”   
“I could have… I should have…”

“Shhhh.” Older Abigail just holds her younger self to her, rocking and comforting her. “It’s over now. There’s nothing you can do. Just come with me, now. Everything will be alright. I promise.”

“Don’t trust her, Abigail, that thing is evil.” Jeb warns, unable to move.

“Then so am I.”Young Abigail doesn’t look up. “Who is that anyway?” She asks herself.

“He’s Ben’s groupie.”

“Is Ben here? Does he know about this?” Young Abigail looks around.

“NO. Don’t worry. He doesn’t even know he botched the resurrection.” The other Abigail reassures her.

“Resurrection?” Tris widens her eyes. “You died?”

“We’ll discuss that later. That stupid little boy. He’s just a walking disaster. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been cursed.” Young Abigail gives an exasperated sigh. “We sent him home for good, right?”

“Not exactly. I haven’t been able to cast spells properly without you. Otherwise everything’s been much less stressful and I’ve gotten so much more done. Despite what he said,” Older Abigail nods to Jeb, “I’m not evil, either. Evil is pointless and impractical. We figured that out together a very long time ago, if you recall.” Abigail takes out a smooth round gem, more oval than circular and fairly flat. It’s the ice blue of their Uncle’s eyes.

“What’s that?” The young Abigail moves away slightly.

“This will be your new home. Nothing but peace and happiness and rest for the rest of our lives. No more pain and suffering. No more problems. All you have to do is leave everything to me and I will keep you safe where no one can reach you but me. You will never have to feel this way ever again.”

“She’s abusing Ben.” Jeb says, though he’s not sure why. The younger one doesn’t seem to care about him either.

“Excuse me?” The younger one turns to look at him. “We’re what?”

“We’re giving him everything he could ever want.” The empty Abigail stand up, glaring at Jeb.

“No, you’re manipulating his heart, his mind, his body. He’s a confused wreck but he refuses to leave you because he loves you so much and is so sure you’re just grieving and hurt. He thinks if he only tries hard enough he can fix you and bring back the woman he thinks you are.”

“What is wrong with you?!” Young Abigail turns on her other self. “You can’t do that to him. He needs to be home, healing, finding his own way, becoming his own damn person. Not here being fed an illusion and being taken advantage of. He’s not a toy for you to play with! Please tell me you’re not treating Tris like shit, too.”

“Oh, she tossed me like a wet roll of toilet paper the second she got home after turning me back. And she broke Chris’ heart way more cruelly than necessary.”

“You heartless bitch! How dare you!” Young Abigail goes to slap the other in the face, but it catches her hand.

“I did what you wouldn’t have been able to do. What you needed to do. Ben is an incredible almost unlimited resource. And a willing one at that. If helping me in any way he can makes the little idiot happy, what’s so wrong with that?”

“Everything!”

“Tris is nothing but a danger to herself now. As for Chris, you should have sat him down and set him straight about his little crush years ago. Just like you should have had Jamal talk to Riley before she pulled something like she did that night. But no, you didn’t want to him to break her heart that way. Tell me, did it end up better or worse than a simple rejection. If you hadn’t constantly let your feelings for these people and your desires not to hurt them, you wouldn’t be here right now. And I don’t just mean about Riley.

“You knew that Jamal was not fit to be a part of this world. Even if this mess hadn’t happened, he would have gone through much worse no matter what you chose or what he knew. You also knew that turning Tris back would make her weak and vulnerable and would probably get her killed. And you, if you kept her around, pretending that she was still the same formidable killer she used to be. She was an incredible danger to us and everyone around us when she was first turned. You should have let your Uncle kill her.

“For that matter you never should have started dating Jamal in the first place. No matter what you tried to tell yourself, you only even went out with him in the first place to get over your feelings for Ben. As for Chris, the only good thing about letting him keep thinking that he loved you was that it pissed off Riley. As for Ben..” 

“Don’t you dare talk about Ben. You… you are not going to control my life any longer, you absolute monster!” Abigail attacks the empty one, but the other Abigail holds out her hand, slamming the gemstone into young Abigail’s breastbone, drawing her into it.

“This would have been so much easier without the two of you here.” Abigail sighs and makes sure everything is in place before unfreezing Jeb and Tris.

“What have you done with my Abigail?” Tris demands.

“I am not and never have been ‘yours’ Beatrice. I know you may not want to believe it, but I am Abigail Jodie Jones. I’m simply Abigail unencumbered by the restraints that caused me unnecessary pain and limited me and my potential.” She turns to her, “It doesn’t matter” Abigail takes a breath, “You won’t remember any of this anyway. Abigail snaps her fingers. The two blink for a moment and look around themselves. “Can I help you?”

“Yes,”Tris regains her bearings. “You need to come home. Chris is in the hospital and Ben won’t wake up.” She goes with the short version much to Abigail’s relief.

“Very well, I’ll have to do something quickly so I’ll return a few seconds after you arrive home and take care of Ben.”With another wave, Jeb is back at Shelly and Alice’s place and Tris is back in the hotel.

Abigail smiles and runs her hand over the cool blue gemstone of Ben’s grace on her hand. This is the most wonderful thing she’s ever had. Pure raw power, unlimited potential and Ben just gave it to her as if it was nothing. He’s so foolish and trusting. Not that she intends to use it in an unethical or immoral way. Nothing Ben could consider evil. But she very well could. He hasn’t learned a single thing, has he?

The soul in her hand feels warm. It’s very easy to case it in glass and slide it comfortably into her chest cavity, nestled behind her clavicle. When she returns to her apartment a strange Indian man is sitting beside Ben stroking his hair. Shelly is lying beside her little brother, having fallen asleep herself it is ridiculously early, so Abigail just waves her cousin back to her own room to sleep in her own bed. It takes a minute before she recognizes the man left behind.

“Harahel.” She greets Ben’s angel. “Welcome to my home.”

“Abigail.” he returns a little cooly. “I assume you’ve been informed of the situation.”

“Yes. There is no situation with Ben, though. It is not five thirty in the morning. No one should have even considered coming into this bedroom until eleven without calling me first.” Abigail climbs onto the other side of the bed, and snuggles up to Ben, kissing his cheek. “Ben, it’s time to wake up.” She says softly. Harahel just stares at her rather fiercely.

“Good morning.” Ben greets her with a sleepy smile and kisses her.

“I’m sorry to wake you but a few things have been brought to my attention. The least of which is that your sister broke into my apartment again and panicked when she couldn’t wake you. I’m afraid I had a work emergency and I didn’t know if I’d be back before you woke naturally, so I kept you asleep until I came back so I could keep my promise to be here when you woke.”

“Oh,” Ben doesn’t seem bothered by this much to Harahel’s surprise. “It wasn’t that, important, though”

“Still, I did promise.”

“Ben Harahel Winchester, how can you possibly think that was anything close to an acceptable thing for her to do!” Harahel’s voice makes Ben get to his feet as fast as humanly possible and away from Abigail. His face is as red and guilty looking as a child caught with a mouth full of cookie and an empty cookie jar.

“It was poor judgement on my part.” Abigail admits. “I should have known one of my cousins would turn things into a chaotic mess. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I’ve just had so much to do I wanted to at least be able to give him this simple thing.” She sits up and moves to the edge of the bed., putting a hand on Ben’s thigh. 

“Could you give us some privacy?” The angel still glares at her.

“Of course.” Abigail walks out.

“She meant well,” Ben says quietly. “She was trying to do something I wanted her to do.”

“Don’t…” Harahel immediately softens at his nephews pathetic demeanor.”I’m not angry with you Ben. But it does make me angry when people treat you badly and you just accept it. Look at this from my point of view. You’re in an unwakeable sleep that even Michelle’s mother could just immediately dispel. Abigail’s gone. Jeb, your sister, and I are worried sick. Then I find out some woman has put you in an enchanted sleep solely so wouldn’t wake up until she comes back. If someone did that to Jeb, would you be okay with that? Would you think that’s okay?’

“No, probably not,” Ben confesses, still not looking his angel in the eyes. “But it’s not some woman. It’s Abigail. And she was just trying to keep a promise.”

“I don’t care if it was Father herself that doesn’t make it okay! Especially given how she’s been treating you.”

“She’s been wonderful to me.” Ben Protests. Harahel just crosses his arms.

“That’s not what Jeb thinks.”

“He just doesn’t understand. She’s hurting and going through alot right now.” Ben continues to defend her.

“Ben, he told me what you’ve told him. It doesn’t sound like a good person going through a bad time, it sounds like you’re being manipulated by this woman and you’re just going to be hurt and taken advantage of.” The angel reaches over to take Ben’s hand. “We can’t just sit back and silently let this happen to you.” Ben doesn’t say anything. “I know it can be hard to admit when someone so very dear to you is treating you badly, when they’re just using you. It’s so hard…”

“Hara she’s never made me do anything I didn’t want to do. She’s never asked too much or even for much of anything other than my love and comfort. Her mother just died, Hara, and she’s not coming back.” The news seems to strike his angel a little harder than he expected. “She’s been trying to hold it together and be strong for everyone. Except for me. She needs me Harahel. What’s more, she wants me. She… she loves me.”

“It has been less than a week, Ben.” Harahel gently reminds him.

“We’ve known each other for seven years.”

“No you have not, young man. You have been aware of each other’s existence for seven years. You last knew her for a few short months when you were both thirteen. You had seven years of not being a part of each others lives at all, and now a week. That is not a seven year relationship of any kind. You weren’t even speaking to each other.”

“It’s different now.” Ben rubs his arm, uncomfortably.

“Yes, it certainly is.”


	27. What is Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben tries to convince his Harahel that he's not in an abusive relationship.  
> Shelly gets herself a feelings hooker  
> Bree starts her rescue mission.

Chapter 27 What is Love?

  
  
  


“We’re in love.” Ben continues. Harahel sighs but doesn’t say anything. “We’re getting married. “

“When?” 

“We, um, we haven’t set a date yet. It just happened.” Ben rubs the back of his neck. 

“Before or after she managed to adorn herself with part of your grace?” The angel crosses his arms.

“It was an engagement gift and not she didn’t ask for it. She doesn’t ask for anything like that. She doesn’t ask for power, wealth, assistance or anything but my love and companionship. Not a thing. I just thought she could use some extra power and protection. After all she is ruling Hell.” Ben explains with a careless shrug. “I need to get a job of some sort. I can’t just keep mooching off of her. If we’re going to get married I’ll need to be able to contribute more equally to the household.”

“I don’t know what to say to you.” Harahel shakes his head and sits next to Ben on the bed. “I don’t think there’s anything I can say at this point. Can I assume you’ve become physically involved?”

“I, um, y-yes. I… we.. yes.” Ben twists a bit uncomfortably turning even more red at the question.

“Are you okay?” the angel asks softly.

“W-why wouldn’t I be?” Ben hugs his arms to himself.

“Ben…” Harahel gently reproaches him for the attempted evasion, and tugs on his sleeve so the young man sits down beside him. “”It’s okay. I just want you to be okay.”

“It’s… it’s a little hard sometimes, but she doesn’t.. If something starts to get to me, she stops without my even asking. She’ll even let me hold her hands down and… it just feels so right. The touch of her lips, her skin, all barriers between us are just gone and we’re so very close just loving and enjoying each other completely. Then suddenly it’s as if we’re a part of each other, connected in a way I never knew was possible. I get scared, yes, but I trust her and she trusts me. She loves me. She needs me. I.. I don’t care if she is using me. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her, give to her. I want her to use me and take everything I have to give. All I need in return is to be allowed to be by her side. Haven’t you ever felt that way?” Ben looks over at him, pleading with his eyes to be understood. Harahel puts his arm around Ben’s shoulder and lets his nephew lean onto him.

“I have. I worshipped them and felt honored to do everything I could for less than nothing which I thought was everything. Do you really feel so worthless, so insignificant that you think you barely deserve even the little you ask for?” Ben just rests his head against his uncles. “Oh, Ben.”

“I love her, Hara. I wish you could understand.” Ben sighs. “I know my parents won’t approve of this. Jeb seems to hate her. I don’t want to fight with you, too.”

“It’s alright. You know I’ll always be on your side, no matter what. Though that’s really just because I know you only ever try to be good and do good things.” Harahel kisses Ben’s cheek.

“So does this mean you’ll give us your blessing?” Ben straightens up, looking at him with those big hopeful blue eyes.

“Ask me again in six months.” Hara replies dryly. “But I will have your back in this and defend your right to make this kind of decision. I only ask you to do one thing for me.” Harahel takes a breath. “When the two of you do set a date, make it at least a year from the day you decide. You should both have a wedding filled with friends and family and it’s going to take some time for your family to be convinced. I’m sure her family won’t feel much different given the speed of the engagement. Especially with how close it is to her mother’s death.”

“Okay. That’s reasonable.”

“No matter what, we all love you. Keep talking to Jeb and me when you can. We will never forsake you or turn you away no matter what. I will always come when you need me to, remember that. We love you and want to be there for you, helping you every bit as much as you want to be there for Abigail. Don’t take that away from us.”

“I love you, too, Hara.” Ben gives his angel a hug and kiss in return. “Will you...ah, will you be talking to my parents about this?”

“I’ll be talking to somebody about this, but your parents won’t be the first people I go to. I don’t like being put in this position, Ben. I know you’re afraid, but you need to be your own man. You can’t keep hiding behind me. Please, when you can come back home, go talk to your parents. Maybe put your father in between you and your mother for a change.” Hara pleads.

“Well, you’re mom’s little brother. She’ll always love you. Marriage isn’t always like that.” Ben smiles at him.

“Their relationship is fine, Ben. It’s fine. I need to get back to work, though. But if you need me, you know how to reach me.” Harahel stands up.

“I do. Thank you.” Ben gives him a hug, not needing to get up himself to do it. “I’ll talk to you later?”

“I’ll see you later, Ben.” Harahel gives him a kiss on the top of his head and disappears. Ben just lies back down on the bed putting an arm over his eyes. After a moment, Abigail walks back in and sits beside him on the edge of the bed. She rubs his leg reassuringly, but it still makes him tense up, so she stops and takes her hand back for now.

“I do love you.” Ben says after a minute. “I see you, Abigail. Brilliant, good,commanding, considerate, self sufficient, never wanting anyone to worry. You’re always thinking of others. A true Queen fit to rule any kingdom.” Ben reaches to take her hand and brings it to his lips to kiss. “They seem to think you’re trying to use and manipulate me. But it doesn’t make sense for you to do that, because I would do anything for you, Abigail. You don’t have to manipulate me. All you have to do is ask. It doesn’t matter what you want.”

“Even if I want you to kill somebody?”

“We both know very well that you’re more than capable of killing someone yourself.” Ben grins at her. “That one might require a bit of an explanation first, but anything else…”

“I know.” Abigail smiles. “Unfortunately I have to break this tenderly homicidal moment between us. Chris is in the hospital.”

“What?” He sits up, “What happened?”

Riley sits next to her unconscious twin, waiting for him to wake up. It’s hard not to feel completely helpless. She can’t even hold his hand. His hands and feet are bandaged up with maggots in them to get rid of the necrotic flesh that was made by his wrists and ankles being bound too tightly, cutting off too much of his circulation for too long. He has a forty percent chance of being able to use them again in the future. But not any time soon. 

Sure her uncle is going to make sure any percent is a hundred percent, but it’s such bullshit. He could be fine as if none of it ever happened right this second. Or hours ago. Chris could be home and they could be together, making up and she could hold him close and make sure nobody ever hurt him again.

“Riley” she hears and rubs her eyes. The monitors have stopped. “Are you okay?” Shelly’s kneeling before her. She’s so quiet and calm Riley finds it a little disconcerting.

“I’m not the one in the hospital bed.”

“No, the person you care about more than anything else in the world is.” Shelly rests her arms on Riley’s legs.

“I’m fine. Go away. I’m not in the mood for weird.” Riley looks away.

“I’m not always weird.” Shelly protests. “I can listen too.”

“Oh, what do you know?” Riley scoffs.

“Not much I guess. Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes. Heal him, completely absolutely and right now.” Riley looks down at her older cousin, almost challenging her with this demand.

“That… that’s kind of a bad idea.” Shelly straightens up, sitting on her heels. “I know I don’t have to tell you why.”

“Far reaching consequences and unpredictable results. Yeah, I know. But what it all boils down to is that everyone and everything in the world is more important to all of you than we are.”

“No, but they have to be just as important. OR at least we have to behave as if they are. Trying to make the world a better place in general for everyone sometimes means not being able to spare the ones we love the most all the suffering and misfortune you never wanted them to experience. With great power come great responsibility, Riley. And it’s not fun, it’s not convenient and sometimes the great personal sacrifices you have to make involves letting things take their course.” Shelly clenches her fists, as fond of the idea as Riley is right now.

“Okay, Spidey, whatever you say.” Riley shakes her head and keeps not looking at her cousin. “Why don’t you use your great fucking power to take a long walk of a short peir.”

“Alright, then. I’ll leave you to be miserable and alone as you so clearly want to be. When you stop your bullshit let me know.” Shelly vanishes, putting everything back the way it was.

Unfortunately she doesn’t know where to go to. She can’t go to Alice any more. She can’t go to Ben because according to Harahel, his brain seems to have stopped working. Her mom’s busy. Brude is having some Grandpa time so she can’t talk to her father. Everyone’s miserable and an emotional wreck or hates her. And she can’t exactly force someone to sit and listen to her vent. Or can she?

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Jeb drops his leftover chinese food on the floor of the empty apartment. 

“I need to vent and everyone has their own problems except you and even if you do, I don’t like you so I don’t care about your problems. But I’ll pay you in material goods.”

“No!’ Jeb goes to clean up but Shelly’s already taken care of it. 

“Yeah, I don’t recall asking for your permission. Sit.” She points to the wall. “Do you keep receipts?”

“I don’t… you realize this apartment is completely empty, right? The Sheriff got it for us yesterday. I haven’t even got a chance to make sure everything’s up to snuff, yet.”

“Yeah, after I vent we’ll pick out furniture.” Shelly looks around. “I’ll take care of Ben’s room so don’t worry about that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Furnishing the entire apartment with everything you could possibly want including a full pantry fridge and wardrobe if you want.” She explains slowly. Jeb just looks at her for a minute.

“So, I just listen to you bitch and get every material object I could ever want?”

“For inside the apartment, yeah.” She nods.

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” Jeb sits down on the floor by the wall and pats his lap. “Come  tell papi what’s wrong.” Shelly plops down and rests her head on it.

“First off, never say that again.”

  
  
  


It’s absolutely fantastic watching Michael fight. Downright, beautiful. Watching her move always has been. Of course that made her walking into things and falling over in high school that much more wonderful to watch. Even if it was mostly because of teenage Mary in crop tops or gym shorts or watching her realize that other girls could provoke a similar physical reaction from her, as well as absolutely nothing at all. It was hilarious. Of all the people to have to go through puberty in a male body, Michael having to do it was the best.

The dance competition was honestly fun. She and Raphael actually won, but only

because they’d been dancing together for Days and Mary sucked ass. Still, a victory is a victory. Sure she got disqualified because it was a sixteen and up competition, and Mary told them she was only thirteen in her current legal identity. But even Michael agreed that was a cheap shot and made her and Raph a copy of the trophy in art class, which had no business being so good. Bree’s honestly not sure what possessed her to keep it.

“Ahhh, this is getting boring.” Bree complains, leaning forwards. “They’re too good. You know what would be fun?” She turns to give the King and Queen of the fae a mischievous smile.

“We’re always more than eager to hear your idea of fun.” Titania smiles with a look in her eyes that tells Bree the Queen of Avalon already knows what she’s going to suggest.

“I don’t think you’ll ever find better fighters than each of them. OR more devoted partners and lovers. I wonder, given the option of one of them dying at the other’s hand or both of them, what they’d do. I’m betting Mary kills Michael.”

“Oh, really? What are you betting?” Oberon leans forwards.

“The most precious and wonderful thing of all, the right to say I told you so in the most obnoxious fashion possible, of course.” Bree gives her cutest smile.

“I actually agree with you on that one.” Oberon admits.

“I’m thinking suicide. He’ll most likely kill himself to spare her the necessity of killing him. Virtuous men can be stupid that way. Especially when they’re in love. That seems rather boring, though.” Titania frowns.

“Hmmm, maybe. But you never know, honestly. And if I know them they will go through every other possible option available to them first.” Bree points out. “Thats the thing about humans. They can be inexhaustibly creative.” Bree turns back around to lean on the railing surrounding the thrones as they sit perched above the gladiator ring.

“Bree, my little angel. Go and tidy up our handsome champion while his next opponent is prepared.” Titania reaches over to pat the angel’s fluffy blonde curls.

“As always, the magnitude of your graciousness is as boundless as your beauty.” She gets to her feet and bows deeply before them. Bree hops onto the railing as nimbly as a sparrow and does an elegant triple somersault into the ring. There, near the west side of the wall, is Michael, injured and exhausted. Michael pretends not to notice his little sister casually approaching him, as if she’s just out for a leisurely stroll in the woods.  
“Hey,sis. How’s it going?” Bree stands above him. Michael ignores the question. “So, I know you’re thinking, ‘oh goodie, Bree’s here to save us, but I mean how is that going to happen? You’re actually here for a totally valid reason. Apparently while rescuing Harahel from Purgatory, you trespassed into their territory without permission or acknowledgement, violating the treaty.” She sits beside him. “And you did not send a proper apology or an acceptable tribute. They’re actually being quite generous in not declaring war.”

“And Mary?”

“Wrong place, wrong time. And she refused to listen to my warnings. So really, it’s her own fault.” Bree shrugs. “And don’t go giving me that look. Neither of you have to be doing this. You could be enjoying yourselves immensely. Quite frankly I think you could do worse than swing with the King and Queen of Avalon.”

“No.” Michael says coldly. “We couldn’t. You could save Mary, though.”

“Yeah, probably.” Bree shrugs. “But what would be the point exactly? She’d just come right back for you, possibly with Helel and we both know that would be a disaster. Unless of course you want a war. Nope.” She puts an arm around his shoulders.”I’m afraid you’re stuck here, paying your debt as entertainment. You just don’t have what it takes to do so any other way.”

“You do.”

“Eh, I don’t know. I mean, what exactly do you think I’d do for either of you?” Bree tweeks her older siblings nose.

“You could leave.” Michael says softly. “Shed yourself of your burden and live a good life.” He looks over at her, as if he can see his grace, slowly burning through her body.

“What’s the point of that?” Bree laughs and gives Michael’s forehead a backhanded smack erasing his wounds and refreshing his entire body. “Alright then, I think you’re ready for your next match. But really, taking my advice. Make love, not war.” She grabs his face and gives him a big kiss on each cheek.

“It’s not too late for you, Gabrielle.” Michael stands up, offering his little sister a hand up.

“Yeah, I passed ‘too late’ Days ago, Miqa.” Bree rolls her eyes, and ignores the hand. “Anyways, relax. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. You just worry about you.” She snaps her fingers and disappears, reappearing on the stool between Oberon and Titania’s thrones.

“That was an interesting conversation.” Titania comments.

“Ah, that’s just Michael playing perfect righteous loving sister again.” Bree shrugs. “Nothing new.”

“I meant encouraging him to be our lover.” She looks down at the angel. “It wouldn’t necessarily involve less pain.”

“Yeah,” Bree laughs. “And it’d probably crush him worse than this mess. Or did you think that I forgot that.”

“I just don’t see the same level of vitriol for your sibling as I used to.”

“Maybe I’m going soft in my old age.” Bree smirks.

“Hmm.” Titania glances over to her husband. “Maybe. Maybe you’re thinking about what your husband will think of this. The first voluntary separation is always the hardest. And a word of advice, remember, this is where you set precedent for future incidents. What you do now determines how things go in the future.”

“True.” Oberon nods, “Don’t make any stupid mistakes while in this delicate position you find yourself in.”

“Oh, please,” Bree snorts. “If I ever catch myself trying to help those two banes on my existence when I could just be rid of them completely instead, I will fucking kill myself.”

  
  
  



	28. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabrielle questions Claudette and takes care of her big brother.

Chapter 28 Interrogation

It’s pure bliss, the feel of his skin against hers, holding him as he whispers sweet nothings in her ear. He calls her brave, tells her how grateful he is, that she saved him so now they can be together forever, loving each other, like no one before. 

“Is that what you think is happening?” A lovely angel with six large golden wings and a halo of golden curls around her head appears before Claudette in a white chiton in gold trim. “Is this really what you thought your actions would get you?”

“I don’t... I saved him, didn’t I?” She sits up

“You thought he needed salvation?”

“Of course. One of your own came to me and told me so over a year ago.” Claudette brushes her hair back.

“Let me assure you, you were not approached by one of my own.” The angel says rather sweetly, though her tone strikes Claudetter as rather frightening. “Who was it?”

“W-who are you?” She backs away a little. The angel looks at her and glances down at the young man still staring lovingly up at her. The look in the angel’s eyes is absolutely terrifying as she snaps her fingers. He just disappears.

“My name is Gabrielle, the Archangel, Angel of Justice and Judgement. You are not in heaven right now. I sincerely hope you will not be, after what you’ve done. You are dreaming, now stabilized after intensive surgery to save your worthless life. I ask you again, what angel told you that murdering my nephew would save him? After answering that, you can tell me what exactly he needed saving from and why it meant he had to die.”

“Je-jezebeth.”

“Jezebeth? That was either not his name or not an angel. What did they show you.”

“A prophecy. No later than his eighteenth birthday the heir of Satan would be shattered and loose himself in the pieces, emerging as the next ruler of hell and all that entails, condemning himself to it’s bowels from all of eternity.” Claudette hugs her knees to her chest in an attempt at modesty.

“I see.” The angel considers. “Could you read this prophecy? Or was it just told to you directly.”

“I saw the scroll myself and yes, I could read it.” Claudette lifts her chin defiantly.

“It was ancient, I suppose.”

“Sumerian.”

“The original parchment?”

“Yes, it was. It was so delicate he wouldn’t let me touch it.”

“Do you know how to google, young lady?” The angel asks with an emotionless smile.

“Of course.” 

“Well, if you googled or asked literally any historian you would have found that sumerians did not have parchment. They wrote cuneiform on clay tablets. The prophecy you could read, could have been an old rubbing, but was it in cuneiform at least?” An old tablet with odd symbols on it appears over the angel’s hand.

“No, it was english…”

“Prophets don’t usually write in alphabets and languages that don’t exist yet. Possibly one older than those that exist in their times, but no ones that no one will be able to read in a really fucking long time, but not once that no one will be able to read in a really fucking long time. Even I don’t know languages that don’t exist yet. Possibly ones older than those that exist in their time but not ones that no one will be able to read for a very long fucking time. Even I don’t know languages that don’t exist yet and I know just about every one that exists and ever has existed. I’m also the messenger, the angel of communication. I have many hats.”

“Why should I believe you? I don’t know you. How do I know you are who you say you are and you’re not just trying to trick me.” Claudette holds her knees tighter to her chest.

“I don’t care what the fuck you believe. You’ve long since gone past the point for it to matter. I don’t need you to believe me. I just need to know who would be trying to orchestrate my nephews murder, and you... If you had shown the barest amount of skepticism and common sense about that first thing to approach you, I wouldn’t be here right now. How could you who claims to love Chris Angelo, Olympic Figure Skater, so much, could actually do something like this without even questioning it.”

“I don’t love Chris Angelo, Olympic Figure Skater. I love Chris Angelo the beautiful, kind caring, protective, mischievous wonderful human being. What would you do to save the soul of the one you loved?” Claudette turns away, trying to hide the tears forming in her eyes. “Do you think I wanted it to be Chris? Do you? I…. I was so sure it was Riley, the violent, callous, angry hateful evil twin, the living embodiment of toxic masculinity. I’d have called it roid rage if they weren’t so proportionally muscled. If anyone would break and become evil incarnate it would have had to be Riley, right?”

“That depends on the kind of stories you read.” The angel shakes her head. “So you thought it was Riley. What changed your mind?”

“The tabloids came out and Riley was the girl. So that meant Chris was the boy.”

“How would that make a difference?” The angel actually sounds offended.

“Because.. Because that makes him the Devil’s heir.” She explains.

“How so?” The angel asks politely and without menace which Claudette find somehow even more terrifying.

“Because the son is always the heir.”

“I can’t believe you of all people can forget the twins are gender fluid.”

“I don’t but I wouldn’t exactly think the devil would be the most open minded and not misogynistic in that way when it comes to succession. Besides honestly they seem more like exhibitionistic cross dressers who like to sow confusion and chaos by through gender play than actual trans or non binary people.” Claudette confesses. The angel considers.

“I think that’s probably a little more accurate. They’re descontructing gender more than conforming to any current definition of it. But they put on the mantles of male and female depending on the day. Angels ourselves are androgynous. Why would the devil prefer one gender over the other and in what world would you imagine the devil naming a successor at all? Do you imagine evil incarnate giving up power voluntarily? Much less planning to do so? Or expecting and planning for his own death? Is that the idea of the Devil you have in your head? One who follows human rules and prepares for a peaceful transition of power? Do you not know what ‘the devil’ is?

“I… I don’t know. I thought he was dead.”

“That much is true. But beyond that, you know absolutely nothing.” The angel covers her face. “You know less than nothing. Especially about love. Did you even consider going to his family about this? Even his more distant relatives Sam and Dean Winchester, who’d be more open to the possibility of having to kill him.” The angel’s words make Claudettee’s eyes widen.

“Sam and Dean are real?”

“Yes, Sam is in fact my husband. This ‘angel’ didn’t even think to warn you about them? If only for it’s own sake? Because how things are now, if you had gotten away, they would be hunting you down as they are certainly going to be hunting down this creature that manipulated you into torturing and attempting to murder an innocent person.”

“But… shouldn’t they be dead? Or in their seventies or eighties or something?” Claudette wrinkles her nose, looking more and more confused, the surrounding area starting to darken appropriately.

“ ‘Shouldn’t they be’ starts a lot of questions about them. Claudette, someone set you up and it damn well better not be an angel.

“You’re lying.” Claudette shakes her head, refusing to listen.

“You decided to kill Riley based on flimsy baseless lies you could have easily checked. And were so intent on deceiving yourself into doing this that when you found out it was the ‘wrong’ twin you barely questioned it, if at all. You stalked and obsessed over Chris, you didn’t love him. Love wouldn’t have let you murder him! Love would have at least made you consider that there was something wrong with your assumptions enough to look further into it. Chris is not has never been and never will be the next satan!”

‘It WAS Riley?” Claudette stands up, absolutely horrified.

“NO, you little piece of shit. It was all a giant con job and you fell for it. You raped and stabbed an innocent person. Even if it was right, if it was him or riley, you and your horrible, detestable actions may very well be the catalyst that causes them to shatter into a million pieces. Because If I was trying to think of a way to break Riley, I don’t think I could think of anything better than what you’ve done.“

“No, I… no… no, none of that’s true! You’re lying to me. You’re not an angel, you can’t be!” Claudette backs away.

“Then guess what, that means alive or dead, you’re definitely not in heaven. If you’re in hell that means you fucked up just as badly as I’m telling you. If you’re alive, then you still have a lot to answer for and much more than the law to answer to. Think long and hard about this. Did you really do the right thing? Was it really an angel you were listening to? Will this nightmare of your own making ever actually end? Because if I have any say at all, this is the least of the torments you will experience from now on.” The same sweet smile that scared her at first is all she can see as the angel disappears in a flash of light, like some homicidal celestial chesire cat.

Claudette’s screams fill the hospital, making the hairs on the back of Jeff’s neck stand straight up.

“It’s alright.” Michael rubs his friend’s back, reassuringly.

“What the fuck was that?” Jeff puts a hand to his chest.

“That was the sound of justice.” Gabrielle walks out of the bathroom, dusting off her hands. She’s surprised by her niece crashing into her, hugging her like Riley hasn’t hugged her aunt since she was three.

“Is it dead?” She whispers.

“No! No.” Gabrielle looks over to Michael who does not seem to care either way and at Jeff who feels a little freaked out. “She’s human and It’s part of my prenup. Besides we do need access to her. She’s not going to enjoy the times we don’t, though. It would have probably been more fitting, but some people think some things are’ inappropriate’.” She scowls

“I want to see it.” Riley strightens up.

“NO!’ Jeff exclaims without thinking. Much to everyone’s surprise, Riley just ignored him without a word or even a glance in his direction, looking only to her mother.

“No, Not now. We’ll discuss it later. We need her alive and I don’t think either of us could guarantee that if we went anywhere near her right now.” Michael informs his daughter. “Let me sit beside your twin while you get some food and practice in.”

“I don’t have anyone to practice anything with.” Her reply is barely audible.

“I’ll spar with you.:” She looks over to see Ben coming up the hall.

“What are you doing here?” Riley demands with a scowl. “Did Abigail let you off her leash or has she decided to pretend to care about him before he dies.” Ben just ignores her sass and reaches out for her hand,

“C’mon, sib. I’ll bring you back when he wakes.” He takes Riley’s neither offered nor concealed hand. Riley just nods and lets him lead her away.

“That was all forbodingly peaceful.” Jeff comments, eying the two suspiciously.

“She’s going to try and get Ben to take care of the situation with Chris.” Gabrielle gives a wry smile. “As for Abigail, she should be here. She’d better not have gone back to work..”

“She’s probably waiting for Riley to leave. She’s most likely trying to avoid trouble. I”m fairly sure she’ll find a way to blame Abigail for this, or for part of it, at least.” Michael suggests hopefully. Gabrielle just makes a face.

“I don’t think anyone has the strength for that right now.” Jeff says quickly as he can sense a disagreement brewing.

“True enough.” Gabrielle crosses her arms. “I think Raphael really needs to talk to his daughter. There is something incredibly wrong with her.”

“I think most of us are aware.” Michael says gently.

“Did you know she promised Ben to be there when he woke up in the morning, but ended up leaving to go to work when he was still sleeping?” Gabrielle says flatly. Michael’s eyes widen, as he remembers his niece’s brief update about Sleeping Beauty Ben being fine but that’s why he wasn’t at the hospital yet. “Yes. Yes, she did. That is exactly what she did, completely and utterly apologetically. She and Ben are also engaged to marry apparently. We are not to talk about this to them yet, but be aware of this development. Shit, hold on. I need to go talk to…”Gabrielle points to the stairway and heads into it. “Christ, Raph!” She exclaims as her brother appears before her in the stairwell.

“You need to stop harassing my daughter.” He demands. “You have no business telling her secrets to the entire family.” Says the ultimate tattle tale.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Gabrielle shoves him a little. “How blind can you be? Your daughter is not just hurting, she is broken and what she’s becoming is dangerous.”

“She’s always been dangerous, Bree.” Raphael replies. “She’s intelligent, determined, strong willed and powerful in almost every way. However beyond anything else she is ethical, sensitive, righteous and determined to do what is right. Her greatest faults are her omissions, but not the way you seem to think. My Abigail never wants to risk anyone else getting hurt, and tries to keep people from being unnecessarily involved. She makes plans but she doesn’t include us because she doesn’t want to take us from what we’re already doing. She doesn’t want to depend on us, or use us or be controlled by us. How is that hard to understand? And how could you possibly condemn her for that? She understands so much more than you think she does. Even that meeting proved that. Why can’t you have a little more faith in her? She has done nothing to deserve this suspicion of yours.”

“Why are you putting so much faith in her, Raph? She’s a child! She was a child seven years ago,too. She was a child when her uncle died/. She was a child when Jamal died and she’s a child now when she’s lost her mother. The more we all pretend otherwise, the more of a child she will stay. You think she’s alright. You think she can handle anything just because she makes it look like she can, but she can’t. You don’t see the darkness taking over. Even now, with that she did with Ben all of you are trying to find excuses. Only Dean agrees with me on this and that’s just…” Gabrielle shouts at the angel before her, though through the set of his jaw, she can see that he’s just determined not to listen. Just like she was determined not to listed when he first tried to tell her about Lucifer. “I think she’s falling, Raph. Maybe even has already fallen.” The expected slap across the face doesn’t come.

“Not now. Not with Ben around.” He says quietly.

“I’m sorry, what?” She can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“Not with Ben around. He loves her. Completely unconditionally, and he’s stubborn enough to never every give up on her. If she’s falling he will grab hold of her and won’t let go until she comes back to her senses.” Raphael sits down on the stairs, facing his little sister. “She’s not evil, Bree. And she’s also not tethered to darkness with it leaking into her, corrupting her every moment. It makes a difference. I can’t give her what she needs. I can’t give her what Alex gave me, what she’ll never give to me again. Only Ben can.”

‘Raph.” Gabrielle kneels down in front of him and puts a hand on his arm. “What are you talking about?”

“Ben…”

‘No, not Ben; Alex. What do you mean ‘what she won’t give you anymore’?” She asks him gently.

“She’s not my wife anymore. She’s made that very clear. Till death do us part, that was the deal, right? She’s holding me to it.” Raphael rests his face in his hands.

“You were pushing again, weren’t you?” Gabrielle sighs and puts her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I was.” he shamefully confesses.

“You never learn, do you?” She kisses his cheek.

“No. I was hurting her and I didn’t mean to. I don’t mean to…”

“I know.” Gabrielle reassures him.

“I just… I need her back. Abigail needs her back, too but I… I can’t…”

“Alex is only human, Raph. She’s led a very long, hard life and is giving up so much of her afterlife for all of heaven in the bargain. She needs rest, Raph. She loves you, and she’s always going to love you, but she’s right. She can’t be your wife anymore, she doesn’t have a body.”

“It’s not… that’s not…”Raphael protests, a little offended at the implication.

“It is, Raph. That’s one of the biggest most wonderful parts of it. Why do you think humanity is so obsessed with it? What the two of you had, that connection, that intimacy. Yeah, you had great sex together, but that’s not specifically what I’m talking about. Every touch, every moment you spend in each other’s arms, the nights you slept at each other’s side, every loving kiss, every moment you were even in the same room it brought you two closer and closer together. It all made you a part of each other. Sure orgasm speeds the process, but the physical connection and growing symbiosis between you is real. It’s something that her soul can never give you again. 

“ Why do you think breakups, even of terrible relationships, even ones you initiate, can be so damn hard. You’ve lost half of your physical being, when she lost hers. Of course you’re desperate to get it back.” Gabrielle’s ready when Raphael breaks down, and stops time so he doesn’t have to try to hold himself together for Michael.

“I’m sorry.” Raphael’s voice is shaky, but she just shushes him and lets him crumble into her arms. Everyone always forgets that healers need to be taken care of too. She used to be better at that. Maybe she should have tried a little more to help when Alex was alive, so Raphael didn’t end up feeling so alone now that she’s gone from this world. Sure she was there when he needed to talk, but not enough, and she knows it.

He and his daughter are too much alike. Bearing burden after burden until they break. Raphael wasn’t evil, either. He was just broken under the weight of the pain and sorrow of every angel of heaven, desperate for an end to the torment, not just for himself, but everyone. She keeps forgetting how fragile he really is.


	29. The Ultimate Prank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bree excessively traumatizes Michael in the fae court.
> 
> posting early because thanksgiving.

Chapter 29 The Ultimate Prank.

  
  


Mary walks down the corridor to a bright light. It’s a familiar sight, one she sees every day. Sometimes several times a day. Aside from a basic weariness and emotional exhaustion, she’s as healthy as anyone can make her. They always heal her before and after a fight. They don’t always do that for the others. Not for the criminals unless they survive five matches and are sufficiently entertaining.

Each time before she goes out, she’s asked if she’s changed her mind. It’ll take a lot more than this to make her agree to be their plaything. Not that she says that. She’s not stupid. They’d stop making things gradually worse and skip straight to the worst thing they could think of. Or offer them an impossible choice.

She walks into the light the same time as her next opponent. There’s dead silence and an electric sense of anticipation. They walk towards each other. Her first thought is that her opponent is a will o’the wisp. But they don’t fight, they just lure. The next, a shape sifter, but the person before her doesn’t just look like him, it moves like him. She briefly thinks they wouldn’t dare but of course they would. They absolutely would. Especially if Bree was involved.

“Happy Anniversary!” The most obnoxious voice in the world declares with Trumpets and confetti bombs bursting in the air above them. It’s all really tiny circles of crepe paper that stick like glitter only dull.

“Well, that’s fifteen thousand dollars down the drain.” Mary gives an annoyed grumble. Michael can’t help but smile at her. They walk over to each other and hold each other tightly. “This isn’t good.” She says quietly.

“I know. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“I’m fairly sure it’s not.” Mary gives an annoyed glance over to the royal throne. Sure enough Bree is there looking absolutely delighted.

“I love you, Mary. More than anyone I’ve ever known. This is probably the worst anniversary we’ve ever had, but at least we get to spend part of it together.” he kisses her neck.

“You’re such a romantic.” She smiles. “But we’re still just playthings for their amusement.”

“True.”

“Okay, huggy kissy time is over now.” They’re torn apart, though only by a few inches. They can both see Bree nestled in between those selfish sadistic bastards again. They’re beautiful sure, but she’d very much enjoy murdering them more than she’d ever want to fool around with them. If she thought she could possibly kill them during foreplay, she’d probably have taken them up on it.

“There are a few additional rules for this fight.” The golden haired fae king announces, not moving from his seat. “The usual rules apply. One person must die. Those left continues on. There’s no restriction on methods. IF either of you commit suicide to save the other, the one you tried to save will still die, just not as quickly or painlessly as they would have if you’d killed them and without the courtesy we have offered you so far.”

“May I translate for my brawn-over-brain sibling and her wife?” Bree asks.

“If you feel it necessary.” 

“Well, it’s not necessary, but it will piss them both off immensely, which is pretty much the point of everything I do that involves them.” She points out and clears her throat when she gets an amused smile and nod from the two. “That means one death, by any means. And suicide will only cause the other to be tortured and raped and stuff as long as their majesties enjoy themselves. If you play by these rules, the survivor will continue to be given the options they have been so far.”

“And Mary.” Bree smiles at her. “The next time I tell you to get in the fucking car, or give you some advice, maybe you’ll listen to what I’m telling you. Sure I want you dead, but sometimes I prefer to watch your helpless suffering instead. You know, like now I’m going love watching you kill my sister. Don’t worry, Miqa. I’ll make sure she’s put on suicide watch afterwards.” Bree blows Michael a kiss. “Love you!”

“It’s so nice to see you enjoying yourself.” Titania pats her on the head as Bree laughs at the pure hatred just radiating from Mary’s entire being and the tortured confusion in Michael’s eyes. Hopefully they’ll understand sooner rather than later. It’s alright if they don’t, though. It just won’t be as entertaining.

Mary is furious. Not just because of the almost universal assumption in the arena that she’s going to kill her husband, but because that little evil waste of breath keeps calling him Miqa. It’s an affectionate nickname used by the younger angels out of love for their eldest sibling, though usually when they were fledgelings or in intensely emotionally vulnerable moments. To start calling him that now as she engineers their deaths is one of the most evil things she could possibly do right now. At least to her knowledge. It’s very cold comfort to know that she was right; the nightingale would never, could never change. And she just said to listen to her? Listen To Her?! FUCK HER! 

Michael reaches over and puts a hand on her shoulder. Mary looks over and relaxes slightly at his smile.

“I’m not killing you.” Mary says flatly.

“You should. I don’t have a soul that would need to be delivered to an after life.” He gives her a squeeze and lets go as the drums start. “Let’s dance.” Michael gives her a wink and a smile and draws his weapons. Mary can’t help but smile back.

“That’s my line.”

As hoped, the spectacle of their usual practice and training routines aren’t interrupted or booed. As the intensity increases, she’s sure only she can tell when Michael holds back, taking advantage of her mistakes but not fast enough that she can’t correct herself. If any of them can see him minimizing the appearance of the opportunities for damage she passes up so it looks like Mary just missed instead. They now each other and their moves so well by now that making an absolute spectacle of it is easy. Hopefully they can make it amazing enough that they change their minds about getting rid of one of them.

“All they care about,” Michael says in the passing moments they come close enough to each other to whisper. “Is entertainment.” Which is true. People like this when assured so greatly of their own invincibility and superiority, tend to play with anything and everything so long as it amuses them. And the only two options given to them both are, as Bree so helpfully pointed out, fight or fuck.

It’s so hard not to keep thinking about it. She’s not sure why, but her energy rarely seems to fade for long. Neither does Michael’s, though the effects of exertion are there, the heavy breathing, flushed skin, sweat dripping down his chest. Somehow the dirt that should cling to their damp bodies from the dust of their movement or tumbles to the ground just doesn’t. Not that the observation can distract her for long from the gorgeous intensity and eager look of enjoyment that cycle through his eyes. It’s that look he always gets when he’s in his element. She may not falter because of fatigue but to say she’s not distracted is a damn lie. A glance at the audience, makes it clear that not a few of them feel the same way. Titania and Oberon attention seem to be veering that way as well. 

Bree’s just observing the fight with a slightly exasperated look, like someone’s not quite getting something. It actually kind of reminds Mary of the response Bree gives whenever she and Michael get affectionate in public. The rolled eyes and groan of disgust, one would expect of a teenager viewing her parents doing the same. She’s also loudly declare it gross should she walk in on anything more, despite the fact that Mary knows damn well the nightingale has done things neither of the would ever even consider. The sentiment that Bree neither needs or desires to see that, still wasn’t enough to get her to fucking knock.

They want entertainment, and she knows they don’t have too much more of an interest before they run out of the kind of showy maneuvers the audience is loving. She won’t kill Michael. He won’t kill her. They’d both rather die, so they’re going to. It’s looking inevitable, so why not go out with a bang? It is their anniversary after all. Besides, maybe they’ll see something worth waiting for. 

“Disarm me.” She whispers as a ‘missed’ lunge takes her close to him again. Trusting her, he complies and allows her the split second extra she needs to take him to the ground. She steps on his chest and kicks his weapon far away from the both of them. She’s on the ground in the next second. This will be difficult. Michael is not an exhibitionist and may not be able to do this. If he can’t, he can’t. It’ll be alright. They’ll just stop and hold each other until they die, happy and content in their love for each other. It’ll piss off Bree to no end.

He pins her in a way she can fairly easily escape from, but instead of doing so, Mary arches her body up to meet his. Michael looks a bit confused for a second.

“It’s our last chance.” She says softly. He hesitates and looks a bit ashamed of himself for it. “No, it’s okay. Just so long as I die in your arms.” Mary reassures him. Michael just kisses her.

“I’ll try… I just…help?” That’s not a problem. She’ll just seduce him like she does sometimes when they spar and she’s tired of losing. This time shouldn’t be much different aside from the audience. It’s alright. She knows how to keep his attention. God only knows, it’s no worse than the racket Bree would orchestrate when she was feeling particularly bitchy. 

The audience seems to turn into an orgy surprisingly quickly seeing as they haven’t even gotten much past foreplay than shedding the pointless ‘armor’. At least now it means they no longer have the audience’s undivided attention. She glances up to the royal booth and sees a large fan. Despite herself she laughs.

“What? Why are you…” Michael opens his eyes and looks where his wife’s pointing.

“Someone’s feeling shy.” She snickers, much to his amusement. “Think we can escape?”

“No.” He nods his head back to the lumpy stone columns set around the arena. Mary keeps forgetting about the trolls.

“Happy anniversary.” She forces a smile and kisses him.

“Happy anniversary.” It finally starts to feel like they’re the only two people left in the universe, their energy finally starting to fade.

“If by some miracle we both survive, I’m killing your sister. If only so no one knows this ever happened.” Mary states flatly, as she lies exhausted in her husband’s arm.

“I don’t think you have time.” Is Michael’s cryptic reply. “And lets just pretend this is a private beach at sunset.”

“No, a grassy field filled with wild flowers underneath the night sky. There’s just way too much sand at the beach for this. No one would believe us.”

“Okay.” Michael’s words are almost a sigh ass he gives into exhaustion. Before she let’s herself fall asleep, Mary reminds her self it’s not, defeat, and it’s not giving up. They’re just changing the playing field, that’s all. She’s always wondered what damage she could do to people as a ghost.

  
  


“Aww, they fell asleep.” Bree leans on the balcony railing as everyone puts themselves back together. She’s starting to feel weak, the pain is still bearable, but she’s definitely running out of time. She snaps her fingers, changing the sleeping pair into tailored white linen shrouds.

“You’ve been very interesting lately.” Titania remarks.

“I miss my husband.” Is all Bree can say. In fact it’s almost all she can feel right now. “I don’t think Raphael’s coming back. I realized that he was the most important thing in the world to me and he realized that he no longer had any room in his life for me or his heart.”

“Oh, darling, you’re so impatient. That’s just how it works. Especially the first time.” Titania picks her up and snuggles her on her lap like a little doll. “The one feeling unappreciated leaves and has their fun until things calm down while the one left behind realizes how empty their lives are without them.”

“True. It can feel like the day will never come sometimes, but it always does.” Oberon smiles at his wife. “Because at the end of the day, no matter the conflict, you know that no one else could ever be enough.” He reaches over and takes his queen’s hand, kissing it gently.

“Is there anything we can do for you? We would put a smile back on your pretty little face again.” The Queen of the fae kisses the top of Bree’s head.

“Well, you could let me go deliver and carry out the consequences of their little show.” Bree suggests. “Whatever you decide, it’ll screw with them much worse hearing it from me.”

Though it’s not hard to guess what it will be. If anything this event has made something painfully clear. The two of them are far too dangerous to be allowed to live. Killing one would just take away a hostage to keep the other in line with. If they’re both left alive, there will definitely be requests for repeat performances. The romantics in the court will be enamored with the couple’s love and devotion and beautiful symmetry with each other, moving like one being. Alive but apart was the safest way, but they’ve seen each other and have been seen together.

No, now the only good option is to kill them both. True, they could torture and try to break them, But Helel will notice they’re gone eventually and Alex and Ben both know who and what are involved. There’s also the little matter of the treaty, which limits what can be done to violators according to the violation, including the stipulation that the family and loved ones of the guilty party cannot be used or hurt to punish the transgressor. They’re already treading on a very thin line. In fact until Michael Bree came and asked about Michael and her wife, they might have been able to deny all knowledge of their relationship entirely. Now it’s only the fact that it hasn’t been outright stated that one spouse will suffer if the other doesn’t cooperate that keeps it technically legal.

Granted that stipulation and the demand that no form or coercion, deception, or incapacitation be used to obtain sexual favors from any member of her family has protected Mary and Michael from worse than given an option for their restitution. Granted she was thinking of Raphael the most when making these special provisions, but she doesn’t regret them at all now. She was definitely thinking of herself when she made the addendum that sexual favors were a valid form of restitution. 

Granted, they could just let them go, declaring their ‘crimes’ paid for, but without anyone able to properly enforce that declaration on Michael and Mary’s end, that’s never going to happen. Bree can’t do anything beyond what she is doing without decemating the entire balance between the fae and human world, irreparably damaging her relationship with Oberon and Titania. No one would thank her for the devastation that would cause. It doesn’t matter, Bree’s known what she’s had to do from the moment Mary was taken.

“Will doing this make you happy, darling?” Titania asks.

“Yeah, I think it actually will.” Bree smiles slightly, amazed at the truth of it. The King and Queen look at each other briefly and nod.

“They didn’t follow the rules. They knew the consequences. Make them aware of it and carry out their punishment as you see fit.” Titania grants her the largesse

“Can I psychologically torture them a little bit first?”

“That is entirely up to you, sweet one.” Oberon graciously demures.

“Thank you. Both of you.” Bree says quietly. “This means a lot to me.” The fae monarchs looks at each other in surprise, their eyes full of questions as their Nightingale lights down on the arena floor. Whatever happens, they know that at the very least it’s going to be incredibly interesting.

When Bree’s feet hit the dirt floor, flowers and grasses start to spread out around her. Soon the entire arena becomes a lush patch of earth containing all of Raphael’s favorite plants, fruits, flowers, grasses, vines, herbs. There are miniature forms of the gigantic trees that once covered the earth, and reached just below Raphael’s head in his angelic form, and just above hers. When he first took a vessel with her, it was one of the things she was able to make him happy with. He was there for her and made it clear he would never abandon her, but still he was so depressed at leaving heaven and Michael and the rest of their siblings behind. 

It took a while for her to see it, until well after he had calmed and reassured her of his devotion. He just put everything he was into holding her, healing her, taking away her pain. She tried to help him too, but pointing out that now he got to experience creation in completely new way entirely is what did it. She took him to one of his favorite trees and watched him realize what he had now. The senses he could experience them with, the new proportions with which to view them, at least part of the gifts given to humanity in the body they had to navigate this world in, watching him realize that made her feel his changing moods as if they were her own. His appreciation growing into hope and even joy was everything she ever wanted for any of them. 

She should have put an effort into doing more things like that. In truth if she’d tried doing things like that in the first place, she probably never would have fallen to begin with. It’s funny that it’s only in these past seven years that she’s come to realize that, even a little bit. It’s funnier still that it’s in part thanks to her own selfish, heartlessness, that she even could. But that’ll be taken care of shortly, anyway. If he was here, if he hadn’t left, maybe she could have done more things like that for him. Maybe she could have taken care of him for a change. He didn’t even give her the chance. It was probably for the best. She’d have sucked at it.

When the garden is firmly set in place, it’s time for it to be watered. Bree creates a sudden downpour of ice cold rain drenching the sleeping lovers. This gets some laughter from the audience. Especially given how much Mary’s expression makes her look like a cat thrown into a tub of water.

“Well, credit where credit’s due, that was entertaining.” Bree looks down at them, her hands held behind her back as she innocently rocks on her heels. “Unfortunately, that didn’t quite follow the rules. See this thing isn’t over until someone is dead, like they said. And since you two clearly aren’t going to kill each other, it’s up to me now. And no, trying to screw each other to death doesn’t count even slightly. Good job, though. If you were anyone else that might have gotten you a regular spot on a better venue.” She stops and laughs. “So yeah, you two need to die and I get to kill you. I will give you a few minutes while I decide which of you to kill first. So you know, you could still do it instead. Maybe it quick, painless, one last gift because with me, it’s gonna hurt like you’d never believe.” She tosses them a couple of obsidian blades.

“I bet you’d like that.” Mary gets up, taking the knife. ”Watching us kill each other.”

“It would be kind of funny.”She confesses. “That’s pretty much the only reason I’m suggesting it. You know, I’ve been wondering what I’d do if I had this opportunity again. I really, really want to see that light in your eyes just fade away, the realization that this is it, no one’s coming, the end of hope, because rest assured you, I’ll never leaving your dead body in any state that it could possibly be repaired enough for you to be resurrected into again. And having Michael watch you die, seeing you slip away unable to do anything to stop it. To know that I’ve taken away everything that made life worth living. He’d beg me to kill him. You think falling is the worst thing you could ever experience, you’re wrong.” She turns to Michael

“You had her even before you fell, she loved you and you loved her. No matter what you did she loved you. She never stopped, never abandoned you, never gave up on you no matter what. If I killed her first, you’d finally get to know what it feels like to have that taken away from you!” Bree finds herself screaming at Michael, feeling as if she’s going to burst. “Of all the things you’ve done to me, how you made me feel, I can never ever forgive you for that!”  
“I didn’t take him from you, Gabrielle, I just welcomed him with open arms. I didn’t know.”

"I know, Miqa,” Bree walks over to him. “Life’s just not fair. So just in case you were wondering why all that effort you’ve been putting into being a good big sister hasn’t done jack shit, well NOW YOU DO!”

“Gabrielle…” Michael gives her a pleading look. “It’s not too late for you.”

“Hmmm. Still such an optimist. All right. ‘A’ for effort then.” She pulls him up to his knees, by the collar of the shroud. “I’ll be kind.” Bree was expecting Mary to attack, hoping for it, really. Just a snap of the fingers sends her flying into the wall farthest away from then. She does manage to keep hold of the knife of course, and uselessly struggles as a casket of thick lead forms itself around her, leaving only a space for her eyes. All Mary can see now is Bree and Michael. Even that much is blocked as Bree draws her blade.

“You know, Miqa. I never thought I’d hate anyone more than I hated you.” Bree brushes his hair out of his face.

“I love you, Gabrielle.” Michael says, though his tone says ‘I’m sorry’. 

“Oh, well,” Bree shrugs and puts the tip of the blade under his chin. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” She smiles at him and slices her own throat, severing both windpipe and arteries. Tears start to fall from Michael’s eyes before his grace almost explodes out of his little sister’s body, eager to return to him. Even before the glamour falls away from Bree completely, he knows it’s too late. Her body is too ravaged to function even for the briefest of moments needed for him to save her. The light fades from her golden eyes even as the last bit of Michael’s grace leaves her body. 


	30. Downward Spiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Dean have a conversation  
> Mirror-Michael deals with the fae and  
> his wife's response to the thought of resurrecting Bree.

Chapter 30. Downward Spiral

Claudette recovers faster than any member of the family appreciates. Raphael puts up with the irritation everyone sends his way, as well as Riley’s almost murderous glares, but he doesn’t say anything. They’re not going to accuse him of giving her more attention than Chris, because that’s absolutely absurd. Which is good because he is. The sooner she recovers, the sooner she’ll be taken out of the hospital into police custody and away from Chris. At the very least she’ll be stable enough to move to another hospital. There isn’t much he can do for Chris anyhow without pushing credulity.  
“Is everything alright?” Michael asks, as Raphael sits next to him in the hallway.  
“Chris is stable, and there’s nothing more for me to do for him for a while. He will be alright but how quickly will largely be up to him now.”  
“Is he awake?” Michael looks towards the hospital room.  
“No. He’s not ready yet.” Raphael says blankly. “That happens sometimes. You should go in.”  
“I don’t want to take Riley away from him.” He shakes his head.  
“You should go in for Riley.” Raphael stands up. “I’m going to go find my daughter. I’ve been wrapped up in my self and my work and now my pain now she’s lost. I have to bring her back somehow.” He covers his hands with his face. “She’s so capable. She had more of her plate than I ever knew and still I thought everything was fine. Within reason, at least, given what she’d been through. I never thought she could be hurting so much.”  
“I should have noticed.” Michael says quietly. Raphael just gives him a look of pure irritation at the statement. “After all, I’d been there before, and I should have known better. She’s so much like you. It’s when she’s happy and with her friends that you can see her mother the most. I suppose I’ve failed both of you now.”  
“I’m her father, Michael. I should have been paying better attention.” Raphael gives a sighs and shakes his head.  
“Dude’s you have been watching her like she’s an endangered species. The last thing either of you could be accused of is neglect.” The Winchester they least want to see speaks up from the entrance to the elevator. “That girl has been intentionally deceiving both of you. All of us, really, and she’s good at it.” Dean walks over. “I brought you steak and fries,” He hands Michael a container from the large plastic bag he’s carrying. “Some old man shit for Jeff here.” He hands him a small bag of chinese food from the diet menu.  
“You’ll be back to eating old man shit really soon the way you keep going.” Jeff accepts the steamed chickens and veggies.  
“You’re just jealous.”  
“True, if you’d give Mike your body, I might have had half a chance.” Jeff winks at him and smacks a kiss his way.  
“Whatever makes you feel better, man. And you.” he hands a box to Raphael.   
“Compliments of your pain in the ass little sister.” Raphael looks down at the styrofoam container. He opens it to reveal some surprisingly fresh maple taffy still cooling on a bed of snow. “She said you needed it. How are you doing?”  
“Why do you insist on thinking it’s alright to speak about my daughter in this way?” Raphael looks back up at him.  
“I’m sorry, but you two keep talking about how much she takes after you, but that’s not really it. I mean sure, she does, both you and Alex, but there’s a hell of a lot of Luci in there, too. More than I can see in any of the other children at least.”  
“That’s just because you don’t really know any of them.” Jeff stands up, much to Dean’s surprise. And puts his food down. “You knew the smallest portion of who Luci was, the worst parts, and you haven’t exactly made much of an effort to get to know the twins. Especially not now that their dad died. Or which one of them takes after their father the most, much less in what ways. You are in no way a significant part of any of their lives and you think you know them better than any of us who actually are? Get over yourself, you twink. “ He picks up his bag again. “Thanks for the food.” He walks away.  
“Hello, Abba.” Abigail appears behind Dean, just to make him jump, which he does. “I don’t mind Dean Winchester being afraid of me. It’s quite a compliment.” She gives a familiar grin which makes Michael admit to himself that Dean was right about her taking after her uncle, at least. Abigail walks over to give her father a kiss on the cheek. “It’s also very reassuring since everyone under me is fairly terrified of him as well. I’m sorry I haven’t been here, Abba.” She kneels down in front of him. Resting her arms on his knees.  
“I haven’t exactly been here for you, either.” He takes her adorned hand, lifting it up to better look at the jewelry. “What an… absolutely priceless gift.” Raphael comments, not sure exactly how to feel about it.  
“Ben gave it to me. In case of emergency. I’ve been a bit worn out lately, pretty much running on empty, and it’s nice to have a safety net.” Her appreciative look makes it clear she knows it’s value is much more than that.  
“It looks good on you.” Dean glances down at it. “Is it safe to carry that around though? It looks kind of pricey. I mean I know you can take care of yourself, but is it worth the hassle of people thinking it’s worth trying to steal from you?”  
“You have no idea what you’re looking at do you?” Michael shakes his head, a conflicted expression on his face as well.  
“So tell me.”  
“Do you know how angel tears are basically pearls with grace in the center instead of grains of sand? This is part of Ben’s grace in gemstone form.” Abigail holds her hands to her chest and smiles down at it. “He’s probably the kindest, most generous, unselfish man I have ever met. I’m lucky he came back. Chris is doing well, I assume. I went to find him as soon as I saw his post, but the police were there and they’d already been sent to the hospital. Otherwise he’d be in much better shape and his stalker would be in much, much worse.”  
“His post?” Michael frowns.  
“The family page? He managed to convince her to send out a coded goodbye video on the family chat and a public ‘announcement’ that should have least raised a panic when one of us saw it. Haven’t… did any of you even look at it yet?” She gives them surprised looks.  
“He… convinced her to what?”  
“Well, it doesn’t matter now.” Abigail shakes her head, clearly disgusted with their complete and utter lack of social media skills. “How is he?” she asks her father as he’s the only one that hasn’t whipped out his smartphone.   
“As well as can be expected. He hasn’t woken yet, but you can see him, if you like.”  
“With Riley in there? She’d get herself thrown out of the hospital and I hardly think Chris would appreciate waking to his twin throwing a hissy fit regardless. I’ll visit him some other time when she’s not there. I really just came to see Abba.”  
“And I was just going to find you.” Raphael stands up and moves to put an arm around his daughter’s back. “Would you care to go for a walk?”  
“I’d love to.” Abigail snuggles up to him a little, and they disappear.  
“Holy shit.” Dean covers his mouth, seeing the public post about moving in with his father first. “Why didn’t she…”  
“Don’t.” Michael says firmly. “Not. Now.”  
“Fine.” Much to his surprise Dean drops it. “How’re you holding up?”  
“I hate the greater good, knowledge of long term consequences, responsibility.” He covers his face with his hands. “How do you do it? Throw all of it to the wind and say to hell with everything for a loved one? I want to, so badly, but I just can’t…”  
“Well,” Dean sits down next to him. “Usually it’s a matter of life or death. Back when life and death weren’t so mutable. You know. Besides the consequences of not doing something were all just so much worse than the potential consequences of doing something. That we knew of. Why the hell are you asking me this? You don’t approve of pretty much anything we’ve been willing to sacrifice in order to save each other. This is a completely different, complicated, mess.   
“Right now Chris is safe, and he’s going to live and he’s guaranteed to have a complete recovery. And you know that and so will he. This is only even an issue because he and Riley are public figures. Hell, you even explained to them what that meant in terms of injuries and healing and crap. They both agreed to take that chance. Sure if we’d gotten to him before the police did, you guys could have taken care of things no problem, and this wouldn’t have become a public thing. But it happened the way it happened, Mike. Michael.” Dean corrects himself. “Sorry, I’ve been talking to Jeff too much.”  
“You have?”  
“Yeah, well, you know, dating stuff.” Dean shakes his head. Michael just looks confused. “Dude, he is human, right? He has needs. Having an actual significant other being one of them. You have no idea how much helping you out fucks with his personal life, do you?”  
“I… I suppose I never really thought about it.”  
“Yeah, well, I’m one of the few guys who likes guys he knows in the life, so yeah, we talk sometimes. I mean, I don’t have a fucking clue either, but you know.” Dean shrugs.  
“He never… he hasn’t said anything.”  
“Of course, he hasn’t. You’re a widower and a fucking mess. He’s not going to talk about that shit with you.” Dean rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, me and Cas, we got this. If Riley has actually stopped being a little shit to him and isn’t just stunned into relative pleasantness, it’ll be fine. Anyways, just worry about Chris for now. Sure he’ll need support,and stuff but he’s a good kid. He’ll understand.”  
“You can understand and not understand at the same time.” Michael looks at his take out container. “Riley will never forgive me.”  
“Look, you’re a good mom,” Dean sighs, “Riley, she may be a thousand percent anger an attitude but she loves you. She’ll come around. Have you thought about sending her to therapy or anger management? If I recall Z something, Zuri...el? Was a little ball of rage and attitude himself. He’s been training under Alex.”   
“Yes, but you have to be willing for therapy to work. Besides, Alex said that when she was ready, Amitiel would probably be a better fit.” Michael replies. “Have you found anything out yet?”  
“Yeah. Jody managed to get us a look at the psycho’s house, and found out that ‘Claudette’s birth has been obsessed with Chris since she was known as Chad Morris. She started stalking them since they first started training in Sioux Falls and bothering Abigail and JJ on their way home from school. Apparently the twins gave her the courage to express herself as herself and a crush that started from Chris treating her with basic human kindness and decency. We found her journals.” Dean explains. “It’s kind of sad really, but anyway a year or two ago some angel, she says, though probably not, approached her. Anyways she got tricked into believing some prophecy bullshit. Cas is consulting the librarian about the prophecy, though I”m fairly sure she’d have brought something like that to your attention if it was real. Interestingly enough until that little ‘Gender Reveal’ article, your sis said to let you know she has them by the balls since Riley is underaged, so if you know anyone who wants to run a newspaper, let her know.”  
“Jeff is a journalism major, I’ll talk to him about it.”   
“He is? I thought he worked in an office building, I mean, before he took over Luci’s job at the shelter.”  
“His employer provided press releases for small businesses. He does some consulting work for Luci’s Garden when my siblings are busy. And he runs a political blog about local government. But you were saying?”  
“Okay that is just fucking weird.”  
“No, it isn’t. He’s a normal ordinary man with a largely ordinary normal life and normal ordinary jobs that I have a fairly close, but normal friendship with.”  
“Yeah. That’s what’s so fucking weird about it!”  
“Will you stay focused on the women who attempted to murder my child?” Michael snaps. It’s like he’s not allowed to have any sort of actual relationship with anybody without everybody losing their minds and thinking he’s lost his. He understands about his relationship with Luci, but Jeff?”   
“Right, sorry. Anyways, until that article, she was convinced that Riley was the next anti-christ and very much looking forwards to having to kill her. Is Riley going by ‘her’ now? Or are their pronouns still dependent on how they’re dressed and shit? Anyways, add in some surprisingly sexist beliefs about heirs and such and some intense mental acrobatics later, coached by whoever the hell’s been manipulating her, she decided that she would be saving him from corruption and eternal damnation by killing him before he could turn evil.  
“The thing is that little prophecy pretty much completely describes Abigail’s little rise to power in hell. Not that we knew about it until recently. My guess is someone used that as inspiration for the so called ‘prophecy’ and decided to use it to fuck with the twins for some reason that I can only imagine involves a hidden death wish because everyody knows that every single member of this family would gladly gank them for much less reason than this. I don’t know why or for what purpose but Sam thinks it has to do with hell’s politics and possibly a way of challenging Abigail.”  
“The name in the journal was spelled half a dozen different ways, from Jezebeth to Jessie-Beth and everything in between. Honestly given Jezebeth is the title of a fricken horror movie from over thirty years ago I doubt that’s even their actual name. It’s also the name of the demon of falsehoods and lies apparently, who might actually be dead, but well, you know, falsehood and lies and that shit. Of course given there wasn’t even a hint of sulfur anywhere it might have actually been an angel. Or you know, at the very least a demon with more self awareness regarding personal hygiene than most.” Dean sighs. “I obviously can’t get anything out of Claudette, because your little sister decided to break her into little pieces. Not that I blame her, but still, Sam probably could have gotten more out of her when she woke up if she wasn’t a babbling lunatic now.” he rubs the back of his neck. “I think that’s it for now. There’s more stuff to go through, but I needed a break and thought you guys might be hungry. Though seriously, as much as she obsessively adored Chris, she fucking hated Riley. Oh crap, I wanted to get her something. I can run down to the food court if you know what she’d like, if she’ll eat right now.”  
“This is fine.” Michael lifts his bag. “Thank you.”  
“Right. I’m going to get going. But… keep an eye on Abigail. Something’s really wrong there. Not just grief or stress. Something bad. Seriously bad and I know I should know it, but I just can’t put my finger on it. I’ve been here before, Michael. I know I have. And yeah, she absolutely does scare me. I know she’s your favorite, but..”  
“I will pay attention.” Michael relents. “You’re right. Something is very wrong with her and it’s neither normal nor good. Just try not to be such an asshole about it in front of Raphael. He is taking it seriously, but she’s his daughter, Dean. And Abigail is not ‘my favorite’.”  
“Yeah, okay.” Dean shakes his head. “I’m headed back. You need anything else?”  
“No.” Michael closes his eyes and leans back against the wall.   
Abigail barely even pretended to care about how Chris was doing. Michael knows damn well that she is perfectly capable of bringing Riley to heel, especially in a situation where all she’d have to do is remind her about what Chris needs from them right now. She’s done it many many times before. And she was so glib about the entire thing. She might very well just be emotionally exhausted but she’s never in all her life, no matter how much pain she’s been in, been so cold and heartless until now. When she talked about Ben, she certainly didn’t sound like someone in love. But the thought that this could be at all related to the state of her soul, that it could mean anything but some outlying extraordinary circumstance or interference of misunderstanding is too much to even consider, so he doesn’t. She’s not her Uncle. She could never go down the same path he did. She just couldn’t. 

Not many fae are left in the arena. Whether they fled or disintegrated, Michael has no idea. Mary is just fine. That’s the biggest surprise in this whole affair. There’s actually no way for her to see what’s going on. The entire lead lined casket is actually keeping her in complete darkness and silence. What’s more it actually protected her completely from exposure to Michael’s grace.  
It’s easy to take it away and bring her back over to him. He doesn’t even have to move, so he doesn’t. He just looks down at his sister’s body. The mild smirk left on Bree’s lips seem almost appropriate. It’s definitely the biggest got‘cha in all of their shared history. Even until the last moment, Michael never suspected that she wasn’t going to kill them. Whether out of pure malice or just a lack of control over her own emotions and deep seated desires, he was so sure she was going to do it. He didn’t even care at that point. Helel and the Winchesters would notice their absence eventually. Things would probably have gotten messy, but if it’s true that Bree had arrangements with the fae regarding earth, Mankind in general would be alright. Bree definitely wouldn’t have let any human souls be left behind here, so Mary would be safe, in some way. Ironically enough, it could have ended being a kind of a rescue.  
Michael can feel Mary’s hand on his shoulder. She doesn’t say anything but he can tell she’s greatly relieved. And for every possible reason she could be.  
“That was probably the most interesting thing that has happened this millenia.” The King, Oberon comments in a sort of serene bewilderment. Mary and Michael are both fairly sure he’s down playing the event to save face. Titania is just silent, looking at them with a blank expression.  
Michael stands up and stares him in the eye. Oberon stares back, though Mary can’t help but think that the fae king’s sturdy posture and stillness in the face of Heaven’s Greatest Warrior, is more like a rabbit freezing in fear.  
“I believe we have some diplomatic issues to discuss.” Michael says calmly. “But there won’t be an actual discussion. I apologize for trespassing. I was unaware of the nature of my offense, or the existence of an actual ruling body governing the lands I crossed in my time of need. I accept that there was the need for restitution. Involving my wife in my punishment, however, was a transgression beyond inexcusable. My offense to you and your court has been more than paid for. But your offense has not.”   
“Is that what you think?” Oberon starts to relax, his lips starts to curl up into what Mary calls the liar’s smirk.  
“I think that you think you can play word games with me. I further think that you don’t understand who you’re dealing with. You’re used to Gabrielle, who has always loved words and word play and concepts like telling the truth with lies and using the truth to convey a lie. Slippery things like that. I’m not so philosophical about it. I don’t care about the distinctions made between deceit and outright lies. They are the same in intent and effect, which makes them no different to me. To me actions speak more true than words.”  
“In this court…” Titania begins. Michael manifests six large bright limbs of blinding purple and ultraviolet flame, for several seconds, making sure to shield Mary’s eyes. The sudden silence of the Fae King and Queen are the only indications of the intense effort needed to prevent or undo the damage to the area caused by exposure to them.

“This isn’t a court. This is an arena. Made for blood shed, and you happen to be the ones who decided to resolve our issues here. I would be more than happy for you to pay as I did, through mortal combat in human form, without your powers, for a length of time proportionate to your offense in the same way it was to mine, but in the interest of peace and out of respect for your cordial relationship with my little sister, I will accept instead, permanent free passage from purgatory to earth for myself, my angels, and their companions from here on out, as well as retroactive pardons for any other individuals that have not yet been punished. Once I look over the treaty you and my sister have between you I will determine if there need to be any changes and get back to you. You are of course free to reject all treaties and agreements or declare them null and void now that Gabrielle is dead. It will make things much less complicated for me. It’s pretty much the only reason I might have to restrain myself, since none of you are human or at all beneficial to humanity in general. I’ll know from your actions and the actions of your people what your decision is. I think you know what you can expect from me in response.” Michael kneels back down to pick up Bree’s body. "Before I go, is there anything of Gabrielle’s here that I’m not aware of? If so give it to me so I can take it with us when we leave. If there is anything you know of or learn of here than might hinder our attempts at bringing her back to the land of the living, I would remedy the situation immediately. After all I’m neither the only angel that loves her, or the angel that loves her the most.”  
“We will take your words into consideration.” Oberon says in an even tone. “If you can bring back our little nightingale, we would be more favorably inclined to honor your requests.”  
“And please, tell our darling, we have so much to discuss with her. We very much look forwards to her return.” Titania smiles. Michael simply takes his wife and his sister’s corpse back home.

“You’re… going to bring her back.” Mary states calmly as Michael just stands in the Bree’s room at the Girl’s hotel, eyes closed, resting his head against Bree’s. He doesn’t say anything. “You know that you can’t resurrect her without giving her back her grace.” He still doesn’t say anything. “She’s been… improving, but do you really think it’s worth the risk? Do you think me and Sam would be safe?”  
“You are aware that she had the chance to destroy us both and saved us instead.” Michael finally speaks.   
“What are you talking about? Didn’t you…”  
“No. She slit her own throat, giving me back my grace.”  
“But.. her body…”  
“That’s what it was doing to her.” He sits on the edge of the hotel bed, not letting go of her. “Maybe the little ones can use each other’s grace, but the four of us, we’re too different. Our vessels are specially fit to us. She’s the messenger so she has a lot more flexibility in what vessels and how long she can use them without destroying them, but I don’t. Dean was the best fit. John is fine. It’s just the difference between a perfectly tailored suit and off the rack. Following that metaphor, Bree’s vessel for me or at least my grace,is much like if I tried to wear her clothes. And they were made out of paper.”  
“Oh.”   
“She paid a great price for us. Her pain, the loss of time, friendly relations with the Fae. The possibility we might not bring her back. She put everything on the line for us.”  
“For you.” Mary corrects him automatically, because it certainly was not for her.  
“For me. I never would have expected it from her.” Michael puts a hand to Bree’s cooling cheek, not shying from the corrosion. “She destroyed herself from the inside out to do it. She had to know she couldn’t handle it. And she still took it and held it until we could all be in the same place.” It’s so easy to see what she was doing and why. It would probably have been impossible for her to get him his grace any other way without raising suspicion. If the difference was noted, it could be viewed as her stealing his power. The taunting, the set up. Could she have done it any less cruelly? Probably, but maybe she wasn’t even completely sure what she would do. Or maybe it was just hard. As hard as it was for Michael not to kill the other Gabrielle when he finally had her in reach way back when they switched. She didn’t have Dean there to help restrain her.   
“It’s so funny.” Michael gives a bitter laugh. “We both hated each other for our brothers’ decisions and the pain it caused us. I didn’t even consider her at all. What losing Raphael all those centuries must have done to her. He was so much more to her than she was to me. He was a part of her every bit as much as you’re a part of me. And the pain she was in. He was the only one who could ever take it away. I didn’t care then. I hated her too much, but even now, it never even crossed my mind that she hated me for the reason I hated her, and that it was worse for her than it was for me.”  
“You didn’t have anything to do with what Helel did to Raphael.”  
“She didn’t have anything to do with Raphael leaving heaven, or his pushing me into the cage. It absolutely happened for our benefit, but we didn’t even so much as ask them to do it.”  
“Michael, she hated you long before any of that. Please tell me you aren’t blaming yourself for anything that happened with her. She was never going to be anything but an evil selfish vicious little bastard, and you know it.”  
“We both know that’s not true. Mary.” He reproaches her. “She was on her way to being what she was supposed to be and you think we should just leave her like this?”   
“I think my son deserves to live without having to endure her presence in his life At least for a good long while. What ever you did or did not do to each other, I don’t care. But if you want her back, right now. just tell me what Sam did to deserve everything she did to him. I love you, Michael, but my children will always come first for me.” Mary hugs her arms to herself. She has a point. Michael knows she has a point. He gently puts Bree’s body down on her bed, and makes doubly certain her eyes stay closed. Not that anyone could mistake her for sleeping or think she could possibly be at peace.   
“I need to go talk to Helel. Will you guard her body while I’m away?”  
“Sure,” Mary gives a sigh, some of her tension leaving with her breath. “I’ll let the girls know the situation.”She sits down on the old fuzzy recliner in the corner. Do you want to fix her body up before anyone sees her?” Michael just looks at his little sister’s poor ruined body.  
“No. They should see that she went through. She deserves to have it known.” He leans over to give her a kiss on the forehead.  
“Alright.” Mary looks over at the hotel phone. “I love you, Michael.”  
“I love you, too, Mary.” He walks back to kiss her goodbye and vanishes.   
The nightingale saved them. It’s annoying to think about. It doesn’t make up for anything. She didn’t have to torture them like that. Well, maybe she did, who’s to say. Mary sincerely doubts she looked for an alternative. That last part was absolutely not necessary.  
It was probably all for Ben and Helel’s sake, not that she would have been cruel enough to say that to her husband. Or could it possibly mean that deep down, Bree actually cares about Michael. Maybe she even actually loves her big sister. It’s still not enough to earn Mary’s forgiveness for what she did to her son. Even Bree’s resurrecting him in that disaster seven years ago wasn’t quite enough.   
Maybe one day, when and if her little Sam-a-lam stop hurting from what she did, if he can actually forgive her himself. If the devil herself can actually be consumed by the guilt and remorse she deserves to suffer and accept full responsibility for her actions. Maybe. Eventually. When one of them is dead for good. Maybe if Bree somehow becomes a genuinely good angel, which it doesn’t exactly sound like she ever really was. Maybe. Probably not, but Maybe. Mary’s definitely not going to hold her breath. The best Bree’s ever been is sort of a chaotic neutral, doing the right thing only ever for the wrong reasons. The thought of her ever being good, or even just chaotic good is just beyond belief. Not that she’d say that to Michael either.  
The truth is, right now, Mary just feels exhausted, so emotionally drained that her body doesn’t even want to function. She should have asked Michael to refresh her but they both have a lot on their mind. She’ll have to have someone else stand guard in case she falls asleep. Who to call, though? She should definitely let Harahel know first. He’ll probably be as relieved as she is and who is she to make anyone wait for good news, especially the one she has to admit was a better parent to her grandson than his actual ones managed to be. But he has so much to do and his free time is mostly spent with his crush. She definitely doesn’t want to take him away from that. Castiel maybe? Balthazar? One of the other angels who tried to encourage and support Bree in her self declared attempt to actually reform. For Raphael’s love, which makes it another case of the right thing for the wrong reason.   
Balthazar. He’s the one with the most free time. And when he gets there she’ll let herself rest. There’ll be enough time to call people when she wakes up. If she can’t count on anything, it’s that Helel will talk for hours on any given subject, and will definitely make the conversation twice as long by making it about himself at some point. So yeah,she’ll have time.


	31. Big Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben takes care of his little siblings

Chapter 31 Big Brother 

“Chris.” Ben calls to him softly. “Chris, it’s time to wake up. It’s okay. You’re safe now.” He can feel Ben gently stroking his hair. “Everything will be alright.” He can hear the beeping of hospital monitors and feel the IV in his arm. But he doesn’t feel his hands or his feet. He didn’t for a while. He remembers at one point he asked her to loosen them, just a little, but she couldn’t bring herself to. He didn’t push. Maybe he should have.

“Riley and your mother are here, so is your uncle Jeff. Alice and Tris are here,too. All just waiting for you to wake up. I can understand if you don’t want to. You went through alot. But it’s alright, it wasn’t nearly as bad as they thought. You’ll be home in no time. And while I know it hurts, it’s bearable. It’ll be annoying at most and uncomfortable unless you push yourself too hard. It may take a while, a little longer than you’d like, but you’ll make a full recovery. You’ll just be left with a few thin white scars you could easily cover up with tattoos if you wanted. But you’ll be fine.”

Oddly enough, Chris can feel a weight lifting off his shoulders. The pain in his chest ebbs down to just a moderate ache and his hands and feet feel like they’re starting to wake up after falling asleep. His eyes still just feel so very heavy though and all he wants is to go back to sleep and not have to wake up again. 

“I know you’re upset with me. But I never meant to hurt you, Chris. I’m your big brother and I love you. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Chris sighs, opening his eyes. “I love you, too.” he takes another breath and looks around. “Why am I in the hospital?”

“The police found you.”

“They did? Right. They did.” Chris closes his eyes again trying to blot out the memory that flashes before him. The weird hot feeling of being stabbed, the deafening sounds of the gun shots, her blood on his face. “Is Claudette okay?”

“I’m not sure. I think she’ll live. I didn’t really look into it.” Ben confesses. “Look, if you need to talk to somebody… I mean, I know you won’t want to talk about this for a while, but when you do, you can talk to me. I’ll probably understand a little better than your relatives.”

“Thank you, but I wasn’t… it wasn’t … she didn’t really… It’s fine.” Chris looks away, refusing to acknowledge what they both know what Ben’s mainly referring to.

“Okay.” Ben accepts that for now. It took him a long time to accept it for what it was and he still has conflicting feelings. When Chris is ready, Ben will be there. “Can I send Riley in?”

“Okay.” Chris replies more certainty than he really feels. She’s probably out of her mind with worry right now. He’s not sure if she’ll break down crying or get angry or both. Maybe she’ll manage to be strong for him and pull herself together, but probably not. Chris is the one she lets herself be vulnerable with. Not as much as he thought, though. Will she be pouring her heart out to the Duck now?”

“Chris!” Riley rushes over to him and gives him a surprisingly gentle embrace. He was half sure she was going to overdo it. She’s never as gentle as she thinks she is. “Thank God, you’re awake.”

“I think it was mostly Ben.” he confesses. “I’m going to be alright. I’ll make a full recovery and be good as new eventually.”

“She’s going to pay for what she did to you. I swear it.” Her expected response isn’t as heartwarming as he thought it would be.

“Don’t do anything. She was just… terribly manipulated by what she thought was an angel, but was probably a demon. She thought she was saving me. She thought she was doing the right thing.”

“And what mental acrobatics let her think that raping you was part of any salvation proccess.” She says cooly, a very dangerous tone in her voice. “Why are you making excuses for her? She didn’t have you nearly long enough for Stockholm Syndrome to kick in.”

“It wasn’t rape. She didn’t rape me.” Chris asserts, not really wanting to say more.

“Oh? So you slept with her before she kidnapped and tried to kill you? Is that what you did? Being tied up was just some sort of bondage kink? Which honestly wouldn’t surprise me.” She comments.

“I don’t want to talk about this, Riley. Just… I wasn’t raped. Okay?”

“Fine. If it wasn’t rape what was it? Was it revenge? You found out I was sleeping with Luc so you just go out and hook up with some rando? Who just happened to be your stalker? Is that it? Decided on a little BDSM session that was interrupted by the police and her going suddenly psycho? Because if that’s what you’re trying to imply, you’re either a stupid reckless whore or a fucking liar.”

“GET OUT!” Chris’ volume is louder than it’s ever been in anger, at least with her. Riley just looks at him astonished, as if she didn’t just says something so fucking horrible to him, which just pissses him off more. “GET THE FUCK OUT! I’m tired of seeing your stupid selfish face you controlling asshole!”

“Chris…” She immediately backs down.

“I’ve done EVERYTHING for you and you can’t even leave this one thing alone when I’ve just woken up in the goddamn hospital. GET OUT and GO AWAY! I’m sick of you! NO, I fucking hate you and I don’t want you to come near me EVER AGAIN!” Riley just stands there, the shock of his words is the only thing keeping her from crying.

“Is there a problem here?” The security guard placed outside near the door asks. 

“Yes. I don’t want her here.”

“Miss. I’m sorry, you’re going to have to leave.” She informs Riley. “Aside from M r. Angelo’s request, the doctors will be here shortly now that he’s awake.” Much to Chris’ surprise, Riley just slowly walks out the door. Hopefully she stays away for a good long while.

“You know she wants you to be happy.” Abigail tries to reassure her father. “But she really can’t be your wife anymore. Just your friend. If you brought her back regardless, you’d lose her all together the next time she died. I don’t believe you’d find that worth it.”

“That has been pointed out to me.” Raphael replies with a bitterness in his voice that his daughter finds quite reasonable given the circumstances, but still short sighted.

“I should have told you a long time about what I had Decided. If I had, neither of you would have been in this position and I would still have my mother. If I had insisted that she take a taxi, she never would have died in the first place.” Abigail states, and smooths out her skirt.

“This isn’t your fault.” He puts his arm around her shoulder. “This happened because Azrael made an offer and your mother took it. I don’t think Azrael was talking about your being Queen of Hell when she was talking about your soul, Abigail.”

“I honestly can’t think of anything I’ve done that’s hell worthy, Abba. No murders, no theft, no torturing humans. I take no pleasure in pain or destruction and always do my best to keep the moral code you and the rest of my family have given me. All I’m doing is keeping order while trying to develop a method of healing these lost souls so they can join the others in the abyss and continue the process of life, death and rebirth. It’s difficult. There are constant setbacks and challenges.

“But my soul should be no more blemished than the average human. Hopefully less.” abigail shrugs. “Whatever I’ve overlooked, it doesn’t really matter anyway. After all, I am the queen of hell. All it will do is get me back to work that much more quickly.”

“It matters, paseh.”

“Let’s agree to disagree, Abba.” She looks forwards at the apple tree. “Aunt Michael did an amazing job on the burial. It was a little funny that he included that little communion. I had no idea he had so much respect for her.”

“Your Uncle respected her. It shouldn’t be much of a surprise that Michael did as well. Michael is a very passionate angel and tends towards the extreme. It’s fairly typical of him to take that extra step. But your attempt to change the subject aside. Your mother and I think it’s about your relationship with my father.” Raphael looks over at her. She seems completely undisturbed.

“Is he really that petty?” Abigail actually sounds amused.

“Yes.” Raphael says flatly. “But he is your grandfather, as well as your God.”

“I respect him and venerate him as my God and the creator of all that is. I’m grateful for you and my family, but he is in no way part of it.” Abigail shakes her head.

“He’s your grandfather. Just because your angry doesn’t change that.” Raphael almost feels like a hypocrite lecturing her on her relationship with his father while he’s never even tried to reconcile and still isn’t sure he wants to.

“He can claim that title if he wants, but he’s made it clear he wants nothing to do with me. It’d be fairly hypocrite of him to condemn me for returning the sentiment. I have no relationship with him. To him I’m nothing more than one of the countless other humans whose are denied. I mean absolutely nothing to him. He has no place in my life because he doesn’t want one. I have no love for him. He has no love for me and I no longer care. He rejected me, so why should he be angry I accepted that and desire nothing from him anymore. If I’m condemned for that, then I’d rather be condemned than pretend I feel any other way.” Abigail stands up. “I had wanted to talk to you about other more important things,but I can see that won’t be possible. If you’ll excuse me, I should get back to work.” She runs her fingers over the ornament Ben gave her and smiles slightly before she vanishes.

Raphael considers going after her, but he knows better than to push. At least she’s started talking to him about things again. And she’s in love with a kind caring young man. Engagement might be a little soon, though he doubts it’ll be a short one. It may just be a desperate rush to stake their claim on each other in the face of death. If Abigail was more like him she’d have probably married Ben immediately, but she’s more like her mother when it comes to relationships, reluctant and wary, now maybe even a little terrified after what happened with JJ.

He wishes he could talk to Alex about this. He wishes Abigail could talk to Alex about this. He does know that even if they talked about this, it wouldn’t go well. Even if he manages not to say it, she’ll still here it. He’ll have to figure out what to do on his own. He can’t talk to Alex. He can’t talk to Michael. Helel would know. They were so close and he and their father actually fully reconciled and have a good relationship now. Well, before he died again. If he could talk to him again….

“Hey,” Gabrielle appears beside him. “C’mon.” She grabs his hand and drags her big brother off. He doesn’t resist. 

“Hi,” Ben sits down beside Riley ont he bench at the edges of the new skating rink. She doesn’t reply, so he hands over a hot chocolate with a peppermint stick to drink with. She takes it and starts to sip. “He’s going to be okay.”

“No, he’s not.” Riley looks at the skaters in the rink. “I mean, eventually, physically he will be, but I don’t know if he’ll really recover from this. He won’t even admit he was raped. I know damn well this stalkers genitalia just doesn’t do it for him. I think our fans are going to be disappointed we turned out to be heterosexual.” She gives a bitter smile. “He can’t get over it if he can’t accept it.”

“True, but the first few minutes he regains consciousness after blacking out from being stabbed, isn’t exactly the time to force him to look at it. He almost died, Riley. You need to give him time to deal with that first.” He puts an arm around her shoulders.

“I didn’t mean to… he just… he started defending her and I lost it. She tried kill him and he starts defending her? I… I just… it was too much. I was so angry. I just lost my mind.” She leans into Ben’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to say what I did. I didn’t mean what I said. I just… he was angrier at me than he ever has been before this and now he hates me.”

“You know he doesn’t.” Ben rests his head against hers. “Maybe he thought he did when he said it, but he doesn’t. And sometimes you can feel something in a moment that you don’t in any other. Sometimes hate can be a stand in for feeling hurt and angry and frustrated and rejected or abandoned. Worry about it if he says it when he’s calm and balanced and generally okay. He might mean it then, but only maybe. You’re not the only one who gets to lose your temper when distressed you know.”

“It’s just… he’s never said that to me before.”Riley turns the cup arounds in her hands. No matter how mad Chris got, the worst he ever said was I don’t like you anymore. That was before Dad taught him to just say, I don’t like you right now. He was really only ever really annoyed sometimes. He was so mad at me before this happened. I heard what Dean said. How my getting caught with The Duck is what made that monster go after him instead of me. Why shouldn’t he hate me. He probably started hating me before it even happened. How can I protect him and help him get through this if he hates me? I mean, he needs me, doesn’t he?”

“It’s okay.” Ben reassured her. “I promise. Everything will be okay.” Riley doesn’t say anything. “Would a hug help? Even just a little.” Ben asks gently. Riley just wraps her arms around him and buries her face in his chest to hide her tears. She somehow manages not to spill her hot chocolate as she does so.

“I’m sorry.” Riley whispers after a minute. “I’m sorry for what I said to you before dad died.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you. After all I didn’t really understand and you are three years younger than I am. You were scared. I don’t hold it against you. I never did. What I did led to your father dying.”

“And yours. He was brought back but my dad… he chose not to be. He probably could have but he didn’t. That had nothing to do with you. And it wasn’t your fault he didn’t want to be with us anymore. Yeah you were stupid but it’s like Chris is stupid. Too kind, too understanding, too forgiving about the horrible stuff people do to you?”

“He’ll be okay, Riley. The both of you will be okay. Your relationship will get better eventually if you give him space and apologize. Without calling him stupid.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” She gives a twitch of a smile. “How long are you going to stay?”

“Forever. As long as you and Chris need me at the very least.” He tactfully refrains from mentioning his and Abigail’s engagement. There’s time enough for that later. “Do you want to go skating?” He nods to the ice.

“Chris can’t skate. He may never be able to even walk again.”

“He will. Of course, I can’t skate either.” Ben confesses, surprising her out of her melancholy, if only briefly.

“Didn’t your mother teach you?” Riley straightens up. 

“My mother and I don’t… do things together. She doesn’t teach me things either. I thought maybe you could?” He asks, hopefully. Riley seems to consider it, thought it’s clear that his idea is an unexpectedly pleasant one.

“I can try. I guess. If you really want to.” Riley looks both excited at the idea and guilty at feeling excited about something right now.

“I’ve wanted to learn ever since Shelly showed me videos of you two skating. We both have time now. It’ll help keep you occupied until you can or have to do something else.”

“Abigail doesn’t need you right now?” She’s determined to be upset it seems.

“I love Abigail, but you’re my little sister, Riley.” Ben says as if that explains everything. It kind of does and actually gets a small smile from her.

“Alright.” Riley gets up and stretches out. “We’re renting skates so it’s extra important for you to lace them properly.”

“I do wear boots. I think I can handle lacing up ice skates.” Ben follows her towards the skate rental. Riley just rolls her eyes.


	32. Playing House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley does not appreciate her aunt's solution to the Olympics problem.

Chapter 32 Playing House

Ben is incredibly bad at balancing on skates. If he didn’t look so embarrassed, Riley would think he was doing it on purpose to make her laugh. When they take a break it’s more a respite for Ben’s wounded pride than exhaustion. Riley buys them lunch from a food cart and Ben has no money. That further embarrassed him, but he’s grateful none the less.

“Riley Angelo.” The familiar arrogant tone makes Riley look up. The last person she expected to see is standing before her with a bouquet of flowers.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” She blurts out.

“You’re here.” He responds looking briefly at the flowers.

“Jesus Christ. Those better not be for me.” Riley says warningly. He grins a little.

“No, these are for Chris.” he hands them to her. “I know you’re not one for romance.” This actually gets the softest smile he’s ever gotten from her. Usually he’s only seen them directed at her twin.

“Riley, care to introduce me to your friend?” The gorgeous Ben gives the man a serious look fo appraisal. It’s not hostile, but is clearly prepared to be.

“He’s not my friend. Ben this is The Duck. Duck, this is Ben. My older half brother, on my father’s side.”

“Oh,” The Duck smiles. “Here I thought I had a rival.”

“Well I am more likely to fall in love with him than I am with you.” Riley’s still looking at the flowers with a pleasant but depressed look on her face. “Take it as you will.”

“I’m Jean Luc Renard.” The Duck extends a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ben.”

“That’s right. I thought your pairs teams were bitter rivals. She’s only ever said bad things about you.” Ben shakes his head. He seems suspiciously friendly for a big brother. Actually he seems genuinely friendly, which frightens the Duck even more than hostility. Either he doesn’t know about the article yet or he’s a complete sociopath already planning his murder. Presuming he’s anything like the twins, at least. “It was good of you to come here in their time of need.”

“He’s not here for that. He’s here because of the decision of the olympic committee. But there’s nothing to worry about. My Aunt Bree taking care of it. We’ll be fine.” She hands Ben the bouquet. “Can you take these to Chris. Just say their from you. He’ll probably have set them on fire of something if you tell him they’re from The Duck.”

“I really wish you’d call me Luc. I hate being called The Duck and I’ll never be able to effectively pretend I find it a loving term of affection. Especially with how you say it.” He asks gently, as if he actually expects her to act lovey dovey at some point. She just gives him and incredulous yet disdainful look that would probably wither any other man, as only Riley can.

“I’m stealing Jeff’s car and going home.” Riley informs Ben and starts unlacing her skates. The Duck just kneels in front of her and finishes unlacing them for her, like Chris usually does. They always did that unless they were mad at each other. Riley wants to cry. Trying not to is the only thing making her let him do that. Of course she also wants to kick him in the face.

“I need to talk to you Riley. Privately. Your brother is more than welcome to chaperone us.”

“Talk about closing the barn door after the horses escape.”She snorts. 

“Ordinarily I’d be more than happy to protect you,” Ben grins at the young man, “ But I think Riley needs to vent some very strong emotions right now. I assume you’re aware of what you’re getting yourself into.” 

“Are we ever?” The Duck grins back.

“Ben. Stop. We have no relationship. We hate each other and we fuck. That’s it. That’s all there is. But yeah, go take care of Chris for me, okay?” Riley looks up at him.

“Your mom’s with him right now. I do want to go see your Aunt and Uncle. But I promise I’ll be there when he needs me.” he bends over and kisses her forehead. “Don’t hesitate to call me, either. I promise I’ll come to you immediately.”

“I don’t think your fiance would care for that.”

“Just call me, sis.” He ruffles her hair and walks off.

“Fucking match making relatives.”Riley covers her eyes.

“Happy couples want everyone to be happy couples. Oui, mon chou?” Luc smiles, a little amused.

“Have you lost your damned mind?” 

“Non, I know very well where I stand.” He stands up. “You hate me with a fiery passion. You despise me, you loather me. I hate you just as much and yet I love you all the same. The passion, the intensity, the heat between us delights me like nothing else. Our flames will burn brighter than a thousand suns and end in a wonderful explosion, destroying each other. Bitter and enraged we will hate each other even more than we thought possible. And yet we will benefit just the same. The pleasure and pain inspiring us greater heights than we ever would have known before.” The excitement in his eyes is both arousing and irritating.

“You are so fucking french.” Riley rolls her eyes, giving an exasperated sigh at the same time.

“And you are so God Damn American.” he gives her a kiss that probably should have waited until they were back at his hotel.

“There was a reason other than this I needed to see you.” The Duck reaches over tot he night stand and pulls out a cigarette. As he goes to light it, Riley snatches it away and breaks it in half.

“To confess your undying love?” Riley’s sarcastic response gets a laugh out of him.

“Non,mon ami. We need to talk about the olympics. Our conduct has ensured that we are not going this year. Not that you would have without your twin. Or may I call him your brother now?” He turns on his side and gently strokes her from between her breasts down to her navel.

“I would prefer his name never cross your lips again. You don’t deserve to even talk about my dearest sibling.” She ignores him and just rests, her arms folded over her head.

“My apologies. I will try not to do so. You are not under a permanent ban however. And neither am I so long as we both give a public apology for our conduct. As an adult I am being help primarily responsible. Fortunately your aunt spoke on my behalf as well. She pointed out that while the offense did in fact take place. The exposure of it was a criminal act and a permanent ban for being the victims of a crime would cause as much if not more outrage than what we did. She further stated than an act of love and fellowship between nations should not be censured as harshly as one of conflict and violence.”

“What on earth was she talking about? It was absolutely one of conflict and violence. Just not an illegal one. “Riley hates how relaxed she feels just lying there beside him.

“Yes, I know that. Our every encounter is a battle of sorts, even if it is unclear what constitutes victory. Is the no marking rule still in effect?”

“There’s not really a point anymore. We’re not exactly keeping anybody in the dark anymore.” She shrugs.

“We have been advised that since our foolish act of young passionate love has been exposed to the public, there’s no reason to hide our relationship or pretend to hate each other anymore.”

“Excuse me?” Riley opens her eyes and sits up.

“Our offense was a public relations one. So we will give them a public relations boost with our rivals turned lovers romance. Growing up on the world stage, pitted against each other from youth. The focus, the rivalry, the obsession with the enemy, the budding respect and appreciation. Then the awakening of feelings never felt before. Confusing and exciting, the birth of love from Chaos. A story eaten up by the public. Especially since I never once betrayed your secret.” The Duck reaches up to take her hand, but she knocks it away.

“So your saying that our future in olympics figure skating depends on giving them a convincing public romance? I’ll have to go back to archery.” Riley stretches and gets out of bed.

“So you are willing?”

“Fuck no. Chris will probably never skate again. And without him, what’s the point?” She grabs a towel and heads to the bathroom.

“What’s the point?!” He exclaims following her. “The point is doing what you love! All anyone has to do is look at you and see the bliss in your face, the passion and strength of your movements to see the pure unbridled love you have for the sport.” He grabs her arms. “It’s the heart and soul of your very being.”

“Fucking hell! Do you ever shut up?”

“Did you ever think that if your sibling makes a full recovery, he might want to skate with you again? And that like you, Chris may think that without you, there is no point. Or do you find the thought of pretending to care for me so repulsive you would take that chance away from the one you love most in all the world.” Luc demands.

“No. No, I don’t.” Riley confesses, and kicks his legs out from under him, sending him to the bathroom floor. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Do you have to be so violent, mon cher.” He gets to his feet as Rily steps into the bath tub.  
“When you manhandle me, you have left civil conversation behind. If you insist on violent passion, I will give you more violence than you can handle.” Riley looks him in the eye adn closes the shower curtain between them.

For Jean Luc Renard to be forcibly inserted into her life in this way. Even if she wasn’t embedded in the supernatural community, it would be a disaster. That’s part of what was so appealing about the affair. Having nothing between each other, no place in each other’s live outside of the competition adn the venting of intense sexual frustration. After all, what else could she ever really have. No one in the life could handle being a public figure and no one in the public sphere could handle the supernatural side of her life. She’ll never escape it completely. After all, she’s the devil’s daughter.

Luc is sleeping on a chair when she leaves the bathroom., clearly having fallen asleep waiting for his turn as there’s a towel around his waist. He looks like far less of a douche when he’s asleep. His hair is a mess. That shade of brown he insists on calling blonde.He’s surprisingly hairy. Probably hasn’t waxed in a while. And of course he’s already started farting. Chris is bad enough, but..

“Shit.” She covers her eyes briefly and heads for her bag.

“Looking for this?” A young boy int he corner lifts up the small blade. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m your guardian demon. Here to protect you when your angels aren’t available.”

“Assigned by your beloved queen?”

“Unfortunately. Babysitting the child of an angel who would destroy me on sight, isn’t exactly a sincure. Your twin has his own. He fucked up big time. Of course, he hasn’t been punished so maybe he didn’t fuck up.” The demon puts the blade in his belt. “Don’t worry I’ll give it back when we’re done talking.”

“You know something about the demon involved. I’m fairly sure mom would listen to you without killing or maiming you.” Riley grabs The Duck’s shirt off the floor. “I don’t deal with demons. In any sense of the word.”

“Yeah, and you’re probably the worst person for me to try to talk to, but you’re probably the only one who’ll take me seriously. I’m not stupid enough to go up to the Archangel Michael and accuse his favorite niece of using his son as a pawn in a demonic civil war.”

“That would be a bad idea. Everyone will just think she’s being framed and come to her aid. If there is a civil war they’ll rally to her side and crush her opponents without hesitation.” She calmly puts her pants off and stuffs her shirt, another pair of pants, some men’s underwear and two pairs of socks in her bag. “Alright come with me down to the cafe next door. I’m starving.: Riley takes the hotel keys from the table and a wallet. There’s a felt pen on the desk as well. “Hold on.” Riley goes over to the Duck, draws in a goatee, a handle bar mustache and a few other things before leaving.

“Is that any way to treat the man you love?” The boy follows her down the stairs. “If I want to abuse and torment my lover that’s my business.” Riley walks across the back alley to a garbage bin,loosely chained, and shoves the clothes in through the cracks. “What other languages do you speak?”

“English, Enochian. I can insult you in French and old Norse. If required I can read latin and speak it slightly better than a two year old roman child.” She shrugs.

“We’ll have to go with Enochian then. I assume you’re fluent.”

“Does an angel shit in the clouds?”

“I’m going to say no.” The demon says politely.

“Correct. Though I am fluent in pigeon enochian, I guess you’d say, I don’t have the right range or frequency for real enochian.” Riley makes a point of being a pain in the ass, though it doesn’t seem to phase the demon. She knocks on the back door near the bin until someone answers it. “Is Becky here today?”

“We don’t give out free food and Becky will no longer be working here very shortly.” The manager closes the door on her.

“You can afford to buy food can’t you?” The demon looks at her oddly.

“Yeah, but I can’t buy privacy and anonymity by walking in the front door. Hold on.” Riley takes out her phone and texts two numbers. In about five minutes the door opens up.

“I’m sorry. I told her if a pair… That’s not Chris” The blonde waitress looks down at the demon.

“It wouldn’t be, would it.” Riley says stiffly”

Oh my god. No, it wouldn’t.” She covers her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry. For that and my manager. Everything will be on the house today.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’ll get the usual. Make Chris’ to go.” Riley brushes past her and heads to the storage room.

“You can use the break room, you know.”

“Nah, this is tradition.” Riley sits down on an overturned crate. “Hold on.” She takes a money clip full of hundreds out of her shirt pocket and tosses it to the waitress

“2 hundred percent tops to everyone but your rude ass manager and free meals for anyone who’s not an asshole to you guys until it runs out.” Plus free desserts for the kids.” Riley informs her. Becky just nods and goes back towards the front. 

“So you’re really the good twin.” The demon looks amused.

“No.” Riley grins as the waitress comes back and hands her the gold money clip The demon looks at it to see the initials JLR and laughs. “What an asshole carrying so much cash around. What does he think this is? The 1900’s” She puts it back in her pocket. “Alright. Talk.”


	33. Important Questions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail has a conversation with Claudette.  
> Ben goes to rescue Jeb from Shelly  
> then gets some bad news

Chapter 33 Important Questions

“Good afternoon.” Claudette looks to her left, the restraints don’t leave much room for movement. A young woman with dark hair up in a silky bun sits beside her. She’s obviously some sort of ethnicity but Claudette’s not sure what. What she is sure of is that she’s seen this woman before. She just can’t remember where. “How are you? Are you feeling comfortable?”

“I know you.”

“You’ve seen me, I’m sure.” the young woman clasps her hands, resting them on her knee. “I’m not going to waste either of our time. I’m here for information. You don’t need to cooperate or consent. I probably wouldn’t even have let you know if I didn’t need to make something clear to you. First of all, neither of Lucifer’s children will be sitting on the throne of hell. It is taken with no plans to vacate and certainly not to them. You have been used and manipulated to destabilize the queen’s rule and stoke the flames of rebellion. Your assaults on an innocent young man did nothing but help the worst of demons.

Fortunately you’re not beyond redemption. Throw yourself on God’s mercy. He’ll forgive you. He’s forgiven other’s worse. Chris will also forgive you. But be aware this is solely because he’s a kind, sympathetic, understanding person. With a twin like Riley he’d have to be. He would be this way with anyone. You are not special. He does not love you. He does not want to be with you in any fashion and never did. He was only trying to buy more time in order to be rescued. At best Chris views you with pity and sympathy. Maybe even compassion, but you are nothing to him but the person who has destroyed his life.

“I am warning you.” She looks Claudette directly with terrifying empty eyes. “Do not take advantage of his kindness. Do not ask him for anything. Do not initiate contact. Do not attempt to have so much as a friendly acquaintanceship with him. If you follow this simple rule, I will arrange for your protection, both in prison and a mental hospital, wherever you end up going. If not I will personally ensure that you will unable to do so much as think about him without pain. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” Claudette manages.

“Good. My advice is to confess everything and tell the truth, the actual truth. An asylum is much less trouble in terms of protecting you. As for the supernatural being you call Jezebeth, that is not their actual name. The real Jezebeth was a demon I killed personally years ago.” The young woman stands up and walks over to the hospital bed. When she holds a hand out over the hospital bed, the world goes dark.

“Don’t get me wrong. I like it. “Ben smiles at Shelly’s match-making mother. “But is this really the best time for trying to set up Riley and her professional rival? Or ever?”

“Ideally no.” Gabrielle admits. “But first of all I saw the sparks from the moment they met in person. Second of all Riley is a wreck. She needs someone safe to vent her anger to. Someone not already devastated or occupied with taking care of someone else. Lastly in terms of her career and public image this is the best way to salvage both. Trust me, I’m good at this. Besides if Monsieur Renard was as horrible a person as Riley thinks, he never would have kept her biological sex a secret after first finding out.” She snaps him up a sundae.

“Oh, no thank you.” Ben pushes it over to her. “Do you know where Shelly is? I wanted to go check on her but I haven’t been able to find her.”

“I think she’s off torturing Jeb and your new apartment.” Gabrielle taps her chin. “All of this has been really hard on her.”

“ I get that, but I’d rather not have her torturing my best friend to deal with it.” Ben scowls. “I’ll bring her back home shortly.” He gets up from the couch. The library in the bunker is so relaxing. Though definitely not an appropriate place to eat an ice cream sundae. Harahel would be horrified.

“Don’t bring her to her dad. I’ve had way more experience with divorce than he has. And death and injury and doing painful shit for the greater good even if it hurts your loved ones. Not to say Sam doesn’t, but you know… actually you probably don’t. Poor thing.”

“Alright, I’ll bring her to you, but I definitely need to go rescue Jeb.” Ben gets up and stretches.

“Great, I’ll be here making something decadent.” Gabriel gives him a thumbs up but doesn’t bother to move until Ben is gone. 

Sure she’s absolutely cold heartedly ruthlessly using Jean-Luc Renard for Riley’s sake, but it might be the only thing that can really help the kid aside from finding and bringing Luci back. Now’s not exactly the time to abandon things and search for him. It never is. Maybe they should have made it a priority. Assigned some angels to it. Maybe it’s actually better this way. It’s impossible to know. Sam has never been more relaxed. His nightmares actually increased for a while, and a several panic attacks. But Alex said that was actually a good sign because when things like that start coming out, it means he feels safe enough to start dealing with the trauma. But it’s possible that Abigail and Riley would have been much better off. Maybe. 

Jeb looks down at the nephilim resting her head in his lap. The fact that she’s eating her ice cream cone while lying down exactly the way she would when sitting up and the ice cream has neither fallen off the cone or dripped on the carpet is bothering him immensely. Doing great miraculous things like Ben did makes sense, but using divine power to eat an ice cream cone in a ridiculous way? He refuses to believe this is just something she does and not something purposefully designed to irritate him.

He’s aware when Ben appears. As expected the nephilim looks a little bewildered. After all not only is the apartment fully furnished but his best friend and his sister who have always disliked each other are sort of cuddling on the couch eating ice cream while watching Holiday Inn.

“Isn’t this movie a little too racist?” Ben asks after a moment.

“One scene, fair for it’s time.” Jeb holds up a finger.

“I edit it out anyways.” Shelly waves a hand at him. “I acknowledge it happened but I don’t need to fucking see that black face shit.

“Okay,” Ben frowns. “And this? He waves to the two.

“Don’t worry. He’s just my feelings hooker. This is a special everything’s going to hell pamper session.” Shelly smiles mischievously, though the usually sparkle in her eyes is dulled almost into non existence.

“You know.” Ben kneels before her. “You can always come to me if you need somebody.” He gives her a little hug, careful not to get ice cream on his shirt.

“Nah. You’re Abigail’s rock, take care of her. She and the twins take priority. And Bruce is having a hard time with the divorce so he needs Grandpa. Mom is just all over the damn place. I just need someone I don’t care about so it doesn’t matter to me if he’s inconvenienced.” 

“I don’t mind prostituting my ears for high end material goods.” Jeb shrugs, which is not what Ben expected from him. “I mean, it’s not like I could have stopped her anyways.

“Shelly, Please leave Jeb alone. Your mother is not too busy and wants you to come see her.”

“Alright.” Shelly sighs and gets up. “Come with or staying here?”

“Staying here.” Ben says quietly. “I’d like to see my own friends for a little while and try to talk to my mother about Abigail maybe. We need to talk about things and I might as well do it while Abigail’s working. Plus I want to ask her how to help Chris.”

“Want me to go with you?” Shelly offers.

“No. Thanks. Mom’s still unhappy about what you did to my soul hound.” He makes a face.

“George? I didn’t… All I did was breed a hell hound with a corgi, okay? I am not responsible for the existence or appearance of hellhounds to begin with. I’m pretty sure that was Uncle Lucy.” Shelly protests holding a hand to her chest. “You’re the one who made her visible.”

“Shit.” Jeb pulls out his phone and venmo’s Jax about twenty dollars. A corgi. It figures. At least he didn’t lose nearly as much as he saved on furniture.

“You taught her to feel off of angelic grace, Michelle.”

“Again, that wasn’t me, and you have to feed it to her. She can’t get it herself like she can ghosts or the souls of the damned. Never mind. I’ll go see mom. We’ll work on that entertainment system a little later.” Shelly disappears, leaving the two to their own devices.

“Will you be here long?” Jeb asks as Ben plops down on the couch next to him.

“I don’t know.” Ben sighs.

“So, it’s going to be a long engagement?” Jeb asks awkwardly. Ben nods.

“You’re not going to yell at me some more, are you?” Ben looks over at him with those damn pitiful blue eyes.

“No.” Jeb sighs and looks up at the ceiling.

“You don’t usually act like that unless I put myself in mortal danger.” Ben teases him.

“It feels like you are. Or your heart at least.” Since Jeb doesn’t say anything more, Ben with effort, keeps from arguing.

“I wish you’d be on my side with this. You always have been before.” He tries not to sound whiny, but Ben’s fairly sure he does anyways.

“I love you , Ben. I only ever want you to be happy and healthy and safe. If I think something’s endangering those things, I’m not going to like it. After meeting her, I feel that even more. But I suppose since your feet are firmly planted, I’ll just have to try and hold my tongue if that’s what it takes to keep my place by your side.” Jeb reaches over and puts an arm around him.

“Thank you. I love you, too.” Ben returns the gesture.

“So does all this mean we’re not going to be roommates?”

“I don’t know, but i’ll be sure to pay my share though, either way. I didn’t really think about it with everything going on. I’m should have, I’m sorry.” Ben’s apology sounds genuine and Jeb has to grant there’s been a lot going on to take his attention.

“Are you going to commute to the garage? Is Abigail rich? Will she just support you? Will their money even work here?” Jeb frowns 

“I was actually thinking of getting a part time job in both places. I’m pretty sure Dad’ll be willing to work around my hours in the other universe. Or let me come in when I can. I definitely don’t want to be a burden on Abigail and I don’t want to be a burden on you. She has work to do you know and it takes up most of her day. I do want to be there for my siblings, but I don’t know what to do. Everything is such a mess.” Ben leans over a little and rests his head on Jeb’s.

“Anything I can do?” 

“You can give me your honest opinion.” Ben straightens up, running his fingers back through his hair. “Do you think I could be a model? You know, one good enough to make enough money to pay my own way?”

“Yes.” Jeb says slowly. “But I don’t think you’d be okay with the amount of skin exposed and physical man handling you’d have to go through to do it. I also hear it’s not all that good for your self esteem. Plus it would draw an obscene amount of attention to you that you wouldn’t want, especially if you ever wanted to stop modeling and go back to hunting.”

“Oh,” Ben slumps down a little. “Right. But I could just model in Abigail’s thread of existence and if I need to hunt, hunt in mine. I can disguise my appearance anyways, you know. But how do you know about modeling?”

“My mom loves Modeling shows. And I know you as well as anyone can know someone in less than three years. There’s one thing I don’t understand, though. Why would you need money? You can make things out of nothing. I’d think you could do more to contribute to the household that way than just hand over cash. Money not spent is as good as extra money earned. Unless she’s hurting for money.”

“She’s not. I don’t know. I need to do something.” I need to contribute to the household with more than just me.” Ben rubs his hand back through his hair.

“Yeah, I guess I can’t see you being content as a trophy husband.” Jeb teases. Ben just gives him an irritated look. “Have you thought about going to college?’

“College? You mean like learning with other people?”

“Yes.” 

“Not really. What am I going to do that I need a college education for? I have access to all the knowledge in the world if I need it. I’m not going to get a job that requires a college degree and I’d be using alias’ most of the time anyway. Maybe. I don’t know. I could mostly just stay over here until she calls me to come over, once Chris is okay. I miss you. It’s weird not having you around me.” The comment makes Jeb smile. And here he’d thought Ben was so enraptured by love and lust that he’d barely think about his friends. That’s just what happens when you’re head over heels in love. Especially when you’re with someone you’ve loved and adored for years. The fact he lost his virginity to her doesn’t help.

“Sme. We love you too your know.” Jeb nudges him. “The crew’s been pretty annoyed you haven’t been around to face time with them.”

“It hasn’t been that long. I’ll be sure to make myself available.” Ben shakes his head. “Anyway I came here not just to fetch my sister and see if you were alright, but to go tell my mother about the engagement. Will you come with me for moral support?” With those pleasing blue eyes and pout, lips how can Jeb refuse. How the hell can a man he’s seen take down seventeen men make himself look so damn helpless.

“You know I’ll probably just agree with everything she has to say about this.” Jeb reminds him.

“I know, but you can also just stand there and shut up, can’t you?” Ben’s annoyed question makes Jeb smile a little.

“I can try.”

Helel just sits there feeling colder than ever.

“She saved us.” Michael says quietly. There’s no response. She just looks at her little sister’s body. The wounds are so familiar. They should be. Before Mule his vessels went through the same thing. But she wasn’t shielded from the pain. Why would she do it? She has to have known Michael’s grace would be too much for her body to handle. Vessels aren’t made to take the grace of an archangel they weren’t made for.

“She saved both of you?”

“Both of us.” Mary confirms. “Not that she wasn’t a sadistic little shit about the whole thing. But she brought Michael his grace in the most secure manner I could think of and made sure we were together when she gave it back so I couldn’t be used as a hostage. It was also interesting to find out she’d made a treaty with them protecting humanity from the other realm. I suppose she did love humanity, didn’t she?”

“The way a toddler loves a baby chicken.” Michael says softly. “We have to tell, Ben.”

“So you’re going to just leave her in the abyss.” Helel folds her hands over her lap, clearly not pleased with the idea.

“No, but I’ve given this a lot of thought. I don’t want to bring her back until Raphael is ready to come back, or decides that he’s never going to. Mary pointed out that she and Sam deserve a break from the one who’s done the worst things they’ve ever experienced in their lives. Besides, I think she’s at least earned a small rest, maybe, instead of the endless tortuer of waiting for Raphael to come back, not knowing if he will or not. I don’t think that making such a sacrifice, enduring what she did and having it not make a difference would help her recovery.” Michael almost hopes that Helel argues with him.

“She wasn’t sick, Michael.” Mary is the one who argues of course. She knows it’s not the time but she can’t help it. “She wasn’t an addict. She chose what she did every step of the way. She’s choosing now. If all she did it for was to get her husband back, it was a worthless empty gesture and never would have lasted anyway.” Mary tries to say it as gently as she can.”

“Even after this, you still can’t forgive her?”Helel looks over at her a bit incredulously.

“For what she did to my parents and my children? No. I can’t and I won’t. I’m sorry, Michael, Helel” Mary shakes her head. “I won’t stop you two from being sisters, but it’s never going to happen.”

“Mary…”

“If you had children, real children. You’d understand, hon. Helel, you have no excuse.” She walks out of the room right into her grandson who’s just standing out in the hall. That friend of his, Jeb, is right next to him.

“What’s going on?” He asks quietly, staring into the room. “Is Aunt Bree okay?”

“No. Honey.” Mary reaches up to touch his face as Jeb puts a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”


	34. The truth is overrated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris is made an offer he can refuse.  
> Ben has a favor to ask of his future father-in-law

Chapter 34 The Truth is Overrated

“Hey,” Tris greets Chris this time when he opens his eyes again. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’d rather still be sleeping if that means anything.” He looks away.

“Do you want me to get you something? Do you want some aspirin? Something to eat? “ She asks. “I can make a mean curry. A better biryani if I can remember the phone number.” This makes Chris give a slight smile.

“No, I’m not hungry. My hands hurt. So do my feet. It’s probably a good thing. I should probably ask a nurse.” Chris starts to reach over for the call button before remembering his hand is still useless, all wrapped up and now painful.

“I’ll go talk to the nurse.” Tris leans over to kiss his temple. “I’ll be right back.” Chris nods and watches her leave.

The policemen guarding the door know her well enough to let her in and out without question. Fortunately they don’t try to interact with him yet. He’s barely stayed conscious. He expected them to be super aggressive about getting a statement but then again when police officers themselves witness the assault, and have the perp, there’s not exactly a rush. But they’ll want one soon. He’s going to have to talk about it. He doesn’t want to talk about it. His mother made sure they left him alone yesterday but someone will be coming to talk to him at some point.

His family will want to be here with him. To be honest he can’t think of a single one he wants to have hear the details. Maybe his father. He’s heard and done worse, so he wouldn’t overreact and he always knew what to say, what to do, what they needed to hear even if they didn’t want to hear it. But he’s dead. So he’s not here. If Ben had been a little less of an idiot, he wouldn’t have died. It’s not fair but it’s hard to feel fair right now. Nothing good happens when Ben is here.

“Hello, Chris.” Someone walks up to him from behind. They smell of sulfer. Oddly enough, Chris finds himself not caring in the least. “Abigail sends her regards.” Chris is a little surprised when he’s not killed after the ominous sentence. He’s only offered a cup of warm tea.

“It’s poisoned,right?” Chris looks at it.

“Probably. You are a threat to her rule. One she’s actively trying to have killed. In truth Hell should be yours. You’re the eldest son.”

“Not really.” Chris corrects him.

“Ben Winchester is not Lucifer’s child. Not our Lucifer. Besides the current queen has him twisted around her little finger. He’s her tool to use, bound by love and lust.” 

“You want me to be the king of hell.” Chris says quietly. “Because I’m the oldest? You know I’d just work towards the same ends as Abigail. I’m just weaker and less capable than she is. I don’t feel like being a stalking horse and have no desire to rule anything. I especially don’t feel like waging war against my cousin. I happen to love her too and would be just as willing to be her tool if she wanted me to be.”

“I’m surprised at you.” The demon sounds slightly hurt. “You don’t even care about the welfare of all the souls in hell?”

“Not even a little.”

“And what about humanity? She’s becoming very dangerous and unstable. Who knows what she’s likely to do. By leaving hell in her hands you’re putting all of humanity at risk. Are you willing to take that chance?” he wheedles.

“Yes, actually.” Chris closes his eyes. Given it’s probably about a one percent chance,

it’s not exactly a hard decision. 

“Do you want them to suffer then?”

“Not particularly no. I don’t care about anything any more.” He feels so tired of everything.

“Not even Riley? Abigail won’t stop trying to kill you. When you die, how do you think she’s going to react? She’ll lose her mind and probably declare war on the Queen herself. With all that anger, do you really think she’ll resist the call of hell? She’ll fall just as far as your father did.”

Chris is obviously not fooled by the attempt at manipulation. Honestly what he’s saying could be true,given how fucked up the world is, but it’s even more likely not to be. He knows damn well that Abigail would never try to kill him. Even if she did become the most corrupted soul in hell. She knows better than to think he’s any sort of threat to her. Besides it would obviously cause more trouble than it prevented. She’s too practical to do anything like that.

“We would of course repair your body at your convenience. We don’t particularly care about the greater good.” The demon mentions casually. The physical pain it causes Chris when he doesn’t just tell it to fuck off is just unbearable. Almost enough to ask for pain killers. The strong ones offered to him. The ones he turned down since he was fairly sure he’d get addicted to them.

“Think it over.” The demon walks forwards with the tea and pours it into the reusable water cup with the lid and straw he’s been given to drink with. “The way I see it, you have two choices, take your rightful place on hell’s throne or eventually, inevitably be killed by the woman you love. But let’s be honest, if you reject our offer, what exactly do you have to live for?” The demon disappears.

It’s a good question. What does he have to live for? That’s the only thing it said worth thinking about. It’s all manipulation and lies anyways. But how long will it take before he breaks. The thought of having everything back the way it was, working hands and feet, being able to wash himself and go to the bathroom on his own. Being on the ice again, will he have to relearn to walk? Relearn to skate? Relearn to use his hands? The thought of it is suffocating. Maybe he could just make the deal and find a way to trick or manipulate his way out of it. No. He knows better. He’s an amateur. Besides all they’d have to do is tell Riley and she’s wage the war herself on his behalf.

No matter what happens, his life is going to be nothing but pain and torture. He’ll be nothing but a danger to the people he loves. He just has to make sure Riley knows that he did this to himself. It was his decision and no one else’s. It’s not hard to sit up, just painful. But when he starts to bend over to drink, the cup vanishes. The sound of wings is the only clue to who took it, but it’s enough.

“Fuck.” he says quietly and lays back waiting for the angry confrontation. But the only thing that happens is Tris coming back in with some ginger ale and a smile.

“The doctor should be coming in to see you shortly. But yes, it’s a good thing,” She kisses the top of his head. Chris just gives a weak smile and looks away.

When Ben returns to Abigail’s apartment she’s still not back home. It’s not as if he plans on asking her to go to the funeral with him. She has her own loss to get through, her own responsibilities. But he at least needs to make sure that someone’s here taking care of her while he’s away. Not that she’s incapable,but… what if she is alright on her own? She will be at some point. When she doesn’t need him taking care of her, will she still want him around? Will she still want to marry him? Will she still love him? If he does go home to grieve, will she realize he’s not worth having around?

It doesn’t matter. He’ll just be a burden right now regardless so he’ll just go talk to her father and get all this over with. It doesn’t take long to find him. He wasn’t at home or the hospital. The apple tree is a radiant and beautiful as it was the day it was made. Though ther’s no reason why it shouldn’t be. He can imagine it staying in full bloom all year long with flowers and apples in varying stages. But that would cause a lot of trouble. Just like completely healing Chris would be. It would be better if maybe there was just always a ripe apple hidden in the leaves and branches that the one who truly needs it can see and take. Maybe it could provide not just physical health but insight into yourself. She was a therapist after all.

“Please don’t alter it.” he hears Raphael say. “Michael worked very hard on it.”

“Right. Sorry.” Ben looks down.

“You’ve gotten better at using your abilities. I like what you did with Chris. In truth it was something I should have thought to do myself. I haven’t been at my best lately.” he confesses. “I have so much power but I’m always so emotionally compromised when it comes to people I care about. It was easier to act when I shut them down, but then again it just led to me acting on things that I never should have done. Not that I do that well with my feelings in control.”

“I understand that much.” Ben walks over and sits beside him on the dry patch of grass around the tree.

“What’s happened?” Raphael asks him, not looking at him at all.

“My Aunt is dead.” Ben manages to say with only a slight tremor in his voice. “And they’re not sure they’re going to try to bring her back. She saved my grandmother and Uncle Michael, but they’re still not sure she’s good enough. She suffered a lot. That much is plain to see. But they’re going to have a wake with a private viewing at the house, so I’m going to be going home for a while.”

“Does Raphael know?”

“Not yet.” Ben takes a breath. “I can find him easily. I always could, but dad explained how things were and that he deserved and very much needed some time alone, where he could think and heal. I know for a fact that he’d want to know about this. I just… I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I would take it very well if he decided not to come back, at least for the wake. I don’t really have anything to say to him in general. There’s so much I need to. But now’s not the time.”

“I see.” Raphael nods.

“I was hoping… I know it’s cowardly of me, but I was hoping that maybe you could go see him and let him know. You two get along very well I hear, while all the others hate their counterparts.” Ben asks, filled with shame as he does so.

“Of course. You and your aunt were close. This must be hard for you to deal with. I understand. It was just as hard on Abigail when her uncle died. Granted he made it almost impossible to bring it back, but still, it’s complicated. She hurt so many people, your mother and father especially, and your grandmother. For all the harm it’s done, I know that Sam has started healing again and he’s healthier and happier than he has been in a while. I’m fairly sure that having to live with Luci in his life, in his daughter’s life, contributed to the emotional strain and constant stress that caused his heart attacks. I can’t imagine it’s been much easier for your father.”

“Oh,”

“Your Uncle Raphael has endured a lot as well, given everything he’s had to give for a very long time. Mary doesn’t forgive those who hurt her loved ones and your aunt has hurt, killed or tried to kill every member of her family, including herself. Your mother, she loves her little sister, but she tried to kill your mother to get rid of the mark. Shortly before you were conceived. I don’t think she’s gotten over that either. Even here with Luci it took several years without her around for Michael and Gabrielle and me to heal and reconcile enough to be a family that could support each other and get along enough that when we decided to bring him back and try to help him reform we could do it without our own relationships problems breaking down.” He explains. 

“Your mother is hurt so badly, she’s so vulnerable and feels so helpless. She’s has to worry about you and your aunt. She hasn’t reconciled with Michael at all and hasn’t been able to try and make things right with Raphael. I think maybe, they might need the time to work things out between them so as to better help your aunt. Or perhaps agreeing to bring her back might help draw them closer together. It’s hard to tell, but don’t ever think that what they decide to do is because they don’t love her or want her back.” Raphael puts a hand on Ben’s shoulder when a few tears escape the young mans eyes. “I’ll go talk to Raphael. But this may be something you have to think about and maybe accept. At the very least, I hope you can be understanding if they make a decision you don’t like. This will probably be the hardest decision they’ve ever had to make.”

“Okay.” Ben wipes his eyes.

“Have you told Abigail?”

“No. She’s not home yet. I’m probably just going to leave a note letting her know what’s going on and head back to my thread.”

“Tell her in person and let her be there for you. If she loves you, that’s what she’ll want and will be hurt if you don’t let her be there for you like you’ve been here for her.” 

“Honestly, I know how much she hates my aunt and she have every reason to. I'm not going to make her pretend she's not glad she's dead, and I don't really want to risk the possibility that she wouldn't bother. I don't think it would help me if she ended up kicking over the casket.” Ben winces.

"You need to give her a little more credit than that, Ben." Raphael prods him, not denying that she feels that way. He honestly feels a little spitefully glad about it himself, even if he does feel a little sorry for her.

"Okay." Ben nods. “ I mean it's not that I don't want her there. I just don't... It's just…It's not fair!” he’s overcome by his emotions, so Raphael just embraces him and lets him cry on his shoulder.


	35. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael goes to tell the other Raphael about Bree.  
> Abigail takes on Ben's mother.  
> Helel surprises her little brother.

Chapter 35 Going Home

  
  


Raphael looks at his counterpart at the edge of the village. He looks so happy playing with the children. It makes Raphael remember when Abigail was small. She grew up so fast. They all did. And it was all wonderful until Jamal died. But Ben’s here and he loves her the way she should be loved. What’s even better is that even though he certainly looks at her as if she were perfect, he clearly knows she’s not. Though thinking she’d desecrate someone’s coffin or body is a little strange. Can she really hold a grudge over something she only heard, of that turned out alright in the end? Possibly. It’s not as if he’s any better.

His counterpart notices him and comes to meet him with a smile. He looks relaxed, happy. Raphael doesn’t want to tell him. But he has a chance to bring her back. She’ll want to be brought back. She didn’t make it ridiculously difficult like Luci did. He’s probably never forgive him if he wasn’t given the chance.

“Raphael, how are you?” He embraces Raphael.

“Not as well as you, I see.” Raphael avoids answering. He hadn’t gotten around to telling him about Alex and now’s not the time. “It’s been a while. What have you been doing?”

“I took charge of an orphanage. Along with basic skills I’m teaching them what they need to survive in the wilderness. There’s no guarantee that war won’t reach this village, neither is there a guarantee that they’ll be able to afford modern conveniences once their current machines break down. I want them to be able to support themselves and their families and also, if they’re forced into an army, to be able to flee and survive as long as possible.”

“Has it been effective?”

“It’s too soon to tell. But I’ve seen it benefit several of the children.. Some make and sell goods. Other’s hunt and forage to help provide for the orphanage. Some have been fostered out. I make it very clear to the families that they will not have the right to abuse the child or use them as slave labor. And the child has the right to take refuge at the orphanage any time. In face formal legal adoption is only allowed when the child reaches adult hood. Then the only reason they would do so is because they truly want them as part of their family. Dealing with Gabriel has given me a bit of a talent at finding and eliminating loopholes for people to abuse.” It’s come in handy. “He can’t quite say her name without pain but it’s enough to fool most people. “What brings you here? Did you simply feel like visiting?”

“No. Ben asked me to. Though I would have come regardless.

“Ben? Is he in trouble?” The other Raphael frowns, not sure why Ben would need him for anything. Especially since his grace is with Ben’s mother. “Is Gabrielle?” Is his next guess.

“Yes. She has.. She’s passed away.” It kills him to say it but anything less blunt just seems like cowardice. It’s not as if delicacy would cushion the blow. His counterpart just stands there, silently, processing the information, not quite sure what he feels.

“How?” He finally asks.

“Michael and Mary got taken by the fae. She rescued them.” Raphael spares him the details. This information hits harder than just the news of her death. Raphael quickly takes hold of his arms before he falls and helps his other self kneel down on the ground.

“Vadir Raffi!” The children run over to him. At least the ones that can’t be restrained. “Are you sick?” “Are you hurt?” “Are you okay?” 

“I’m not sick, or hurt.” Raffi replies to them “I… someone very dear to me has just passed away. Don’t worry, my brother will take care of me.”

“You’re his brother?” One looks up at Raphael oddly.

“Twins.” He replies with a straight face.

“You two don’t look very much alike.” The oldest preschooler squints at him suspiciously.

“Irish twins.” Raphael’s response just makes her purse her lips at him. 

“What are you doing? Leave the men alone.” A woman runs up to them. “Come. Come.”

“I will make you Milo and a peppermint stick.” A five year old whispers before being shooed off.

“Thank you.” They both nod to the woman who shakes her head.

“Anything you need, Raffi. You just let me know. “ She pats his shoulder and bends over to kiss the top of his head. “I am certain your loved one is safe in God’s arms. Take comfort in that and know that it is all part of God’s plan.” The expression on Raffi’s face right now would scandalize her if she could see it, but he manages to just pat her hand.

“Your efforts are much appreciated.” He replies calmly. “If you’ll excuse us.”

“Of course.” She reluctantly goes back to the children.

“Let me arrange for a substitute care taker for a few days. Ben must be devastated.” Raffi states, as if he isn’t. Raphael helps his other self to his feet and follows him into the orphanage.

“My room is in the back.” Raffi takes him through the rooms, showing and telling him about each child and their improvements. Letters from former residents are posted on the main walls. Pictures of successful projects like the workshops walls. There are various raised garden plots outside. There’s a hand sawn lumber collection and a brick collection of homemade bricks. Every child he sees is strong, healthy and happy. There are definitely more children around than there are beds as well as more adults than would be working here. Older men and women come to confer their wisdom on the children, adopting them as honorary grandchildren for the most part. Raffi’s fairly sure there are a few children that would be going to take care of their favorite ‘grandparents’ when they’re adults. Mostly girls, but some of the boys have their favorites as well. There are alot of people coming to learn the skills themselves, or sending their children. It’s absolutely beautiful.

“This life seems to suit you.” Raphael smiles.

“It was as if becoming human lifted a gigantic weight off my shoulders. For the first time I’ve been alone with my own pain, my own thoughts, my own feelings. I’ve felt at peace in a way I haven’t in a very long time. “ It’s true, despite his distress he’s much more relaxed in general.

“She actually saved them from the fae. Some lesser fae stepped out of line?”

“I’m not sure. They were placed in the Gladiator Arena.” Raphael explains as much as he understood from what Ben was told and told him. Raffi just stands there.

“So she rescued them from Titania and Oberon.” 

“I suppose so. I don’t know the details. Mary told Ben and he didn’t say much more

Than the bare minimum. I’d ask Mary or Michael. They were there.”

“And she saved them both. Both Mary and Michael.” 

“Yes.”

“She had her grace I assume.” Raphael states, though it’s more of a hope that she did. It’s impossible to think she could have done it human and powerless, unless of course she died at their hands.

“No. She was using Michael’s. I think it was the most secure way to get it to him.”

“Oh. I thought… well,” Raffi gives a pain filled laugh. “I suppose I know how and why she died then.” Raphael just puts an arm around his shoulders for support. “How are they handling this?”

“Ben will be alright. He has Abigail. Your siblings have their spouses, They’ll be alright and you have me.” Raphael reassures him. “I have to go back, there are things I’m needed for but I’d be more than happy to have you come with me for a little while.”

“Thank you.”

  
  


It was easy enough to find a replacement. Though much more difficult to leave. Almost everyone the village insisted on seeing them off. They actually had to get on a bus which, with Raphael’s help, actually arrived on time. It was only slightly harder to make it so that nobody noticed when they disappeared off the crowded bus. 

There are a few extra cars in the driveway.” One has Nebraska plates saying HLLSPWN, with several St Raphael medallions hanging from the rearview mirror along with a small potted plant superglued to the dashboard. A single undersized snow drop.

“Claire.” Raffi touches the hood, a look of guilt crossing his face. After all, when he left he didn’t just abandon his siblings, he abandoned her as well. True she had her father back, but not for too long. Jimmy couldn’t get rid of the things that happened when Castiel was in his body, using him as vessel. When Helel died during childbirth, he broke and ended up telling somebody more than he should have which got him taken to a mental hospital. Claire tried to get him out right away, but it was honestly the best place for him at that point. When he finally came out again, he just locked himself in a room with his medication until Balthazar needed help. 

He ended up giving Castiel his body in exchange for being allowed to just sleep in the abyss and not have to be aware of things anymore. After all he knew Raphael would always be there for her to help take care of her. Granted Claire has been an adult for a while, with her own business well before he left. But it was abandonment all the same.

He never even tried to contact her either. He couldn’t. Gabrielle would have found out and come for him. Or Michael. They had his grace, so they wouldn’t have had any real use for him. But Michael was used to having her way. He doubts very much that any humility gained from her fall would have been enough to undo that.

There’s some angry scolding inside when they reach the door which he doesn’t expect given that Bree is dead. Abigail is the one who opens the door for them. She’s in a respectable black suit with a beautiful silver bracelet and webbing attaching it to a ring on her right hand. The large ice blue gemstone reminds him of something, he’s not sure what.

“You might want to stay outside a little longer. Helel has forgotten her son is an adult and is not dealing well with him doing what adults do. It’s looking as if I’ll have to step in.” She informs them, a look of annoyance on her face. “Ben seems to have forgotten he’s an adult as well.”

“I will deal with you later, young lady.” Helel shouts ather. Abigail’s eyes darken as she looks back at her.

“Excuse me.” She turns and walks back into the living room. Raphael quickly follows his daughter inside, not wanting to let the conversation to escalate as he knows it will. Especially now that Ben seems to have given her an object of near infinite power as a token of affection. “Ben we have visitors.” He watches as Abigail goes up the stairs and pulls Ben back down them.

“We? You have nothing, little girl.” Helel slowly starts down the step after them. Abigail turns back to face her, still holding Ben’s hand. She rests her head on Ben’s shoulder and gives a small smile before turning back around. The fury on Helel’s at this face is almost frightening. Ben is reasonably pale, not exactly sure what to do, not that anyone would expect him to. “Can you do something about your daughter?” Helel looks over to Raphael.

“No. But that’s not important right now.” He gives her a hug when she reaches the bottom step. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you for coming. Mary’s out picking up ice. She’ll be back shortly if you want to know what happened. Don’t ask Michael, please. She’s only pretending to be alright and I don’t know how much longer she can keep up the pretense if she has to talk about it too much more. If you’ll excuse me. I still have a few things to say to my wayward child.” She lets go and heads to where their children went to. Raphael steps back and looks over to the side of the house where Raffi stopped to avoid seeing and being seen by Helel.

“I’m not ready.” He states, quite unnecessarily.

“Not even enough to go rescue your nephew?” Raphael prods.

“I think your daughter has things well in hand.”

“Yes, but not likely in a way to spare Ben any real distress or humiliation.” Raphael points out. Raffi sighs and lets his counterpart put an arm around his shoulders and guide him inside. 

“Is this how you pay your respects? By losing your virginity at her wake? Of all the disrespectful, callous things, you may as well have spit on her grave.”There’s silence for a moment. The guilt and pain in Ben’s face is heartbreaking. Oddly enough Abigail hasn’t said anything yet. “Did you even consider for a second how your aunt would have felt about this?” Raphael can’t keep a twitch of a smile from his face. That was the wrong question to ask.

“Your mother’s right.” Raphael freezes at the familiar voice as the person he’d forgotten about walks in from the kitchen, Ben’s Harahel close behind. “It would have been better if you’d waited until midnight and christened her plot with passionate lovemaking on the newly turned soil of her freshly dug grave.” She says seriously. There’s a laugh from the kitchen.

“Oh god, that’s so true.” Claire laughs.

“Actually I think she would have preferred you to do it on her casket during the eulogy, id there is one.” Raffi corrects them with a weak but sincere smile at the thought. “She’d be thrilled that your son was involved with Raphael’s daughter.” Gelel turns angrily towards him, but stops more than a little shaken at seeing him. “And you know very well her attitude about sex in general. I can’t believe you’d try that on your own son, much less try to hold him to higher standards than you held yourself.”

“Welcome home, Raphael.” Ben’s Harahel greets his brother, but places his hand on his Alex’s shoulder when he sees Abigail’s father. “We should go back outside.”

“Really? It’s not like you to leave Ben to be strangled by apron strings.”She gives him an odd look.

“Please?”

“Okay.” She shrugs and follows him back out.

“He has to be better than me, Raphael.” Helel addresses her brother. “Especially after what he’s done. You don’t know the severity of the situation he’s in. I’m starting to think Ben doesn’t either.” She tightens her lips, beyond frustrated.

“You’re referring to my having killed people.” Ben says quietly.

“He bound himself and joined the marines.” Abigail looks to her father’s counterpart. “He fought with nothing but his humanity.”

“I know. Azrael’s been keeping me informed.” Raffi nods. “She’s been taking care of me, when I need to be taken care of.” He explains quietly.

“I’m glad. You’ve deserved to have someone take care of you for a long time.” NObody expected those words to come from Helel, least of all her younger brother. “I can’t protect you Ben. Not any more. I can’t… I just can’t.” She closes her eyes, taking a deep but shaky breath.

“Have you forgotten that your son has the potential to be the most powerful being in existence. If he had been properly taught to use his grace, you wouldn’t have to worry about him now.”Abigail cooly accuses her future mother in law.

“You think they’ll come to kill me now that you’re hurt, because I joined the marines.” Ben sits down in the nearest chair.

“She thinks she can’t convince them all not to try to eliminate you.” Abigail looks at her. “That’s hardly a reason to humiliate him for taking comfort in his fiancee after his aunt, who he was very close to died a horribly painful death. Especially since she might not be brought back. You should have your act much more together than this. You’re St.Lucifer, the patron saint of the fallen. If you believe your son is fallen then why not raise him up again like you have a million times, with kindness, compassion, and understanding. Of course maybe the problem is that you’re treating him as if he is, and he isn’t. And isn’t that half of what makes people fall in the first place?”

“Damn!” The Raphael’s hear from the side, and look to see Claire and Denny at the entrance to the living room. Denny, who spoke, has a bag of white cheddar popcorn she’s digging into. “It’s like Helel and Raphael had a child together.” She grins.

“Don’t you ever say such a thing again!” The Raphaels and Helel all say at once in the exact same way as Claire punches her friend in the shoulder. Denny just gives her a pointed look.

“I’d like to go outside for a little while.” Ben requests, though he’s not sure exactly who’s permission he’s asking. His mother and Abigail both nod.

“But this discussion is not over, young man. We will continue when your father gets back.”

“Yes, mom.” Ben gets up and goes back to Abigail. “I just need a few minutes, that’s all.” He reassured her and bends to give her a kiss on the cheek. 

“Of course.” She nods, kissing him back. “I’ll make sure you get it.” Abigail looks icily at Helel, who returns the look but better. Abigail is not intimidated.

“Thank you,” He quickly leaves.

“Helel Ben Sahar, your son is a grown man. The perfect man in fact. But he is a poor excuse for a supernatural being. He has been psychologically crippled in regards to his grace, emotionally devastated, and his equally crippling insecurity and sense of absolute worthlessness makes me miss the budding arrogance and full blown sense of celestial superiority he had at thirteen.” Abigail addresses Helel, maining a firm confident demeanor. “You should fear for him not just in life, but in death as well given the mental chains he’s shackled with. Now instead of trying to scare, guilt and brow beat him into becoming what you think will make heaven happy, why don’t you try seeing him for who he is, a good,kind, compassionate, generous man trying to fit himself into the role assigned to him. Killing in war is not murder, which is what is forbidden. He has no addictions, no criminal behavior to change and redeem. The only way he’s going to fall from grace is if he’s continually told he already has until he just breaks completely.”

“You listen to me, you mortal brat...”

“No.” Abigail interrupts him and raises her bejeweled hand and snaps her fingers, vanishing from the room.

“I see she takes after her uncle quite a bit.” Raffi comments.

“That was excessively dramatic.” Raphael admits. “She’s angry. But she’s not usually like this. It’s been a difficult time for her. She has alot to be angry about. I think I’m not doing a very good job as her father right now.” Raphael looks at the spot where she was. “I thought I knew what to do, what she needed, but it hasn’t seemed to help so ar. Maybe I was wrong.”

“Maybe you’re just being impatient.” Helel says gently, looking over to her brother’s counterpart. “It just happened. Raphael. No one expects either of you to be okay yet. You shouldn’t either. I’m faily sure the fact that little wench hasn’t murdered anyone yet is a good indication you’re doing something right.” Of course, she can’t keep her personal issues out of otherwise very good advice.”

“What happened?” Raffi turns to him, grabbing hold of his arm.

“My wife is just finally getting to see where I grew up.” Raphael responds. “She doesn’t want to leave.”

“I’m so sorry.” Raffi embraces him.

“Don’t be. I know she’ll be happy. You’re… today’s not about me and my pain. Today is for you and yours. Why don’t you go see Michael while I talk to Helel.” Raphael suggests, forcing himself to let go.

“I hope it’s not for advice about Abigail. Helel is a terrible parent.” Raffi comments. Raphael just gives him a light shove and heads over to sit beside Helel as she buries her face in her hands. 

“He’s not wrong.” She says quietly. “Ben’s the most important thing to me in all of existence and I somehow manage to do everything wrong.”

“Not every time.” Raphael reassures him.

“True, the best thing I’ve ever done as a parent was giving him to Harahel to raise. He raised a child as darling, bright and loving as I ever could have hoped for. Intelligence and beauty was a given, considering who he parents are, but a heart like that has to be learned. If Harahel knows anything, it’s how to love. I just know how to fake it. 

“And then of course, I punished him for it. All because I was jealous, unreasonable, and bitter having missed so much of his life. I pushed him to do what he did. He’s so much stronger than he was but I knew he was just so vulnerable, too. I didn’t want him to go try and get himself killed, but I knew I was hurting him and I didn’t care. I caused my own crippling. Raphael loved me, but they loved him as much as me and he could do things I couldn’t, so I destroyed a relationship that would have been one of the best I could have had, and I didn’t even realize it.”

“You can’t create.” Raphael puts an arm around her. “I know. It’s the one gift our father withheld from you.”

“I did finally manage to create the most wonderful thing in all of existence, by accident and at the cost of my life, but it was worth it. I mean, I had help of course, but I did the majority of it. But yes, I resented the hell out him for it. I thought it meant he was better than me. Of course, you both are. Probably every Raphael in every thread of existence is a better angel than I am. So I tormented him for it, just like I did Harahel. When I finally admitted to myself that he was more important to Michael than I am, I made him pay for it, torturing and breaking him before gift wrapping him. I am the cause of every terrible thing to me and the people I love.”

“You’re still so overdramatic.” Raphael sighs, a bit affectionately. “And love the sound of your own voice. Tell me, when Raffi was gone with Gabrielle, did Michael still train the angels? Did she look over the land, did she do her job? Did she function even though she was filled with heartache?”

“Of course. Michael always did what was required of her. She loves our siblings, he’d never just leave them to their own devices. They need her and depend on her to be there for them, so she always would be. Even when she was consumed by darkness, she only wanted to make them better.” Helel sounds a little offended at the thought.

“Then she absolutely does not love him more than you. In my thred, when you fell, her heart broke into a million pieces. Each one contributing to a painfilled rage that led to the deaths of thousands of angels at her own hand. There was an emptiness filled only by our fathers commands and the pain of your betrayal. When you were caged seh died inside. She did nothing but sit on heaven’s throne. She ended up doing nothing but the bare minimum required by our father’s orders, maybe less. Maybe a form of malicious compliance, to be honest. She partook of the routines we lived by when needed and would die a little inside every day the end came closer. Gabrielle and I were like your children. You both had your favorites, but you and Michael together were like... a soul, at least as close to one any angel could ever have.” Raphael finishes, well aware of the irony of calling Helel long winded before delivering a speech like this. “Are you and Michael still not sleeping?”

“No. We’re not speaking, not really. I’m not angry and don’t hurt as much, but I don’t know what to say. What can she say? It doesn’t matter. She’s happy. Mary makes her complete and happy. She doesn’t need me.” Though Raphael can see the pain in her eyes at this, and the faint suppression of tears, though that may just be part of everything happening at once.

“Mary is the same side of the same coin. You’re the other side of the coin. Michael needs you to be complete just as much as you need her. You need her help right now, Helel. Mostly because you’re saying and acting just like she did with Gabrielle in the beginning. You’re so scared.”

“Terrified.”

“They can’t hurt him. You know that.” Raphael reminds her, putting a hand on her back, gently rubbing it.

“Unless he lets them.” Helel whispers. “Unless he does something stupid like bind his grace away. With what you know of my son, do you think he would kill my brothers and sisters, even if they came after him?”

“You know he doesn’t have to to defeat the. Besides, he’s in love. That gives a person more than enough reason to live.” Raphael can’t help but smile. “I know my daughter was rude and confrontational..”He begins slowly, “But you can’t deny that she truly cares about him.”

“Your daughter was merely declaring war and marking her territory. He’s a possession to her, not a beloved partner.” Helel looks up at him, sounding incredibly regretful at telling him this. “I didn’t see love in her eyes, Raphael.”

“She’s just hurting. When her uncle died, she ended up shutting down, just like this. when Jamal killed himself, she did the same. And now her mother is gone and staying away by choice. That’s three people she loved more than anything that abandoned her in the most permanent way possible. Ben loves her the way she deserves to be loved and I know he’ll never abandon her no matter what. It may take her a while to really accept that and let her true feelings show, but we all need to have patience. She’s a good woman Helel, every bit as kind and unselfish as your son.”

“Raph, I’m sorry, but I know what that looks like. I have seen every form of despair and retreat from the world any human has ever felt. What I saw wasn’t any of that. She’s worse than you think. Something is seriously wrong, but I’m not sure what. Of course I was upset that it’s not just seeing my little baby boy with some girl like that. It’s that he gave her a piece of himself that I can’t believe he was ready to give. He gave her his body. Do you have any idea what that means? For him? After what happened to him?” Helel shakes her head, closing her eyes.

“I was never able to help him though what Legion did to him. Your wife tried but he wasn’t cooperative and I have to admit that having the mother of the girl he had his first real crush on wasn’t the best idea. Not that there were many options. His father tried as well, but he was older and more experienced when it happened to him. It wasn’t Mule’s first experience with sex. It wasn’t the same circumstances. It wasn’t manipulation, subtle seduction, a betrayal of trust faith and innocence. 

“How did she do it? He couldn’t bear to be touched in most loving gestures for a very long time, except from Harahel. He can do it now, for other people’s sake. He doesn’t hate it as much as he did.” Helel leans back in the chair, slumping exhaustedly back into it. Raphael puts up the feet for him. “Thank you. How did you make your daughter able to this way? Able to get from my son what I wasn’t sure he could ever bear to give. Not for decades. How did she do it? I can’t think of a way that isn’t at some level horrible.” She covers her face with her hands.

“Love, Helel. Love, trust, faith. Love is the greatest most miraculous, powerful force there is. Love forges souls. Let them have that. They both need it so badly.” Raphael pleads. It’s so obvious he’s not able to handle the truth about his daughter yet, so Helel decides to let it go. She just laughs.

“I don’t know about love, but it forges poets I see.” She smiles at him. “So what’s really going on. It definitely not that your wife decided to stay in heaven, abandoning you and your daughter. There’s no way it’s that simple.” Helel prods.

“This is your sister’s wake. Don’t make it about me.” Raphael shakes his head.

“Did you maybe consider that maybe I might need a break from my failures? Don’t be so selfish and let me focus on your problems for a little while.” Helel scolds him, a look of disgust on her face. As intended it makes Raphael smile a little.

“I’m sorry. I keep forgetting that it’s all about you.”

“You’re life would be much easier if you didn’t.” She reashes over and pats his head.

“I hate Death.”

“What else is new? You declare war on him every day and he just ignores you and goes about his business. You wouldn’t be the healer you are if you didn’t. Which makes your relationship with Azrael evenmore confusing.”

“Azrael is dead to me.” The statement surprises and alarms Helel more than a little bit.

“Oh, now this I have to hear.” Helel leans closer to him, and waits for Raphael to start talking.

Raffi leans forward, resting his arms on the dining room chair as Michael stops talking.

“Are you alright?”Michael puts a hand on his little brother’s back.

“I’m still processing the information.” Raffi closes his eyes to think. “This is so far beyond anything I could have expected from her. To save both of you, much less at the cost of her own life…” His voice trails off.

“You’d have expected her to save even one of us?” Mary comments dryly. And crosses her arms, still holding the bag of ice. She was definitely not going to let her husband go through telling the story alone.

“I love my big sister. She knows that. If she’d save Michael, I would understand. She’d have been doing it for me. But you, Mary, the fact that I lke you would only decrease the possibility of her doing anything to help you. She loves Ben and knows he loves you, but she could very well have gotten rid of you and said she was too late. He’d beleive her. He understands that sometimes things can be too hard. But she sacrificed her life to do it. I just can’t… the way she did it … it was the best way, with the greatest chance of success but she’s never cared about the odds before. She’d never let herself suffer that way if there was any other option. But she made sure that she would succeed. I barely sounds like her.”

“That’s probably because my darling husband left a few things out, like her taunting and humiliating us as we fought to the death against other creatures after we turned down Oberon and Titania’s offer to swing. Me in particular with the usual clear burning hatred we have for each other. She also set us up to fight to the death and made it so we coudl only have a chance of avoiding the death and pain of our loved ones by providing very public entertainment of a different kind. It was absolutely not necessary to do that to us.” Mary says a little discreetly, though Raffi knows exactly what she’s refferring too. He’s never been to Avalon, but Bree made it very clear why he would never want to. 

“It caused, um, a sort of audience participation? Where we could have escaped if the walls of the arena weren’t made of living stone. I did manage to defeat one troll, but just barely. Seventeen would have been far too many.” Mary continues, “Besides up until the moment she slit her own throat to give Michael his grace back, we were both absolutely certai that she was giong to kill us both right then and there. She fucked with our heads and humiliated us before that finally, complete and utter mind fuck. Michael’s probably never going to get over the whole thing. I’m half convinced that she only wanted us to live so we could suffer.”

“Only half?” Raffi grins. Now that sounds more like Bree. Deciding to do the right thing but determined not to be the least gracious about it. If she wasn’t dragged into rghteousness kicking and screaming, he wouldn’t know who she was, even if the person doing the dragging was her own self.

“It’s only half because why would she sacrifice her life to do it? When she wants to destroy someone she wants a front row seat. If the point of saving us was to make it as traumatic as possible and enjoy our suffering, why wouldn’t she have made sure she’d be around to enjoy it? I mean she’s nothing if not creative. And she’d survived for so long her dying doesn’t make sense.” Mary tightens her lips. “I managed to convince them to wait a while and not try to revive her until we’ve figured out if we should. I know there’s a trick here somewhere and she is not going to get away with it.” She straightens up and leaves the dining room before her now angry husband can say anything.

“She doesn’t understand what it means that Gabrielle brought me my grace in her own body. She doesn’t understand the pain she was in.” Michael shakes his head, more than a little.

“I’m sure she does. I think maybe you’ve forgotten what Bree’s done to Mary and her loved ones. To her parents, Sam, how she tried to kill your vessel in the womb. She’s not going to stop hating her and she has absolutely to.” Raffi turns to his big sister. “You keep wanting people to feel how you feel about things, when you feel about them, but people don’t work that way, neither do angels for that matter. Sure alot of the little ones kind of convince themselves or fake it until they think they do, but you need to let her feel how she feels and don’t try to push or argue her feelings away. I”m pretty sure if Bree had only hurt her and not her loved ones, she’d be on her way to forgiving her, but that’s not how it was. And you know it.”

Michael sighs and gives a kind of half nod, grudgingly admitting that his little brother has a point. Raffi just looks towards the window, where the coffin is prominently displayed, as if they’re actually going to bury her. Its’ covered with pagan symbols representing each of her separate identities in the various pantheons she snuck into to play. Adn there are images of gifts that Raphael gave her. Not the ones he expected, but silly simple ones like a pressed flower, a little goldfish he won her at one of the carnivals just because. Her first taste of sugar, a jar of honey. On the lid is an image of their wedding day, drawn in the style of the time. Filling the blank space are the flowers he made for her, Lily’s and Honesty. Though the last one was rather sarcastic. She was just pleased he made a joke, even if it was at her expense.

“Why is it closed?”

“Ben closed it. He didn’t want her seen like that. I thought people should see the extent of her sacrifice, but I suppose I can respect the right of those who don’t.

“It’s hardly as great a sacrifice as the first one.” Raffi’s cold voice makes Michael look away a little ashamed. Raphael stands up and walks over to the coffin. He traces the picture on the lid with his fingers. She looks so happy. She was happy. The pain didn’t even register. He promised to be with her always, to care for her, to love her. He promised he would never leave her. But he did. When she was at her most helpless, most fragile he did just that. If he was here for her, this never would have happened.

He opens the lid. The inside is lined with golden spider’s silk stuffed with what must be goose down. But her body, her poor body, is eaten away from the inside, open sores on her skin and face. The second she took in Michael’s grace, she was living on borrowed time. At least without him there. He understands what Michael intends by doing this, or not doing, but fuck putting her ‘sacrifice’ on display. She deserves to be seen as the angel who gave her entire being for her sibling.

They should see the goodness and humor and playful nature buried deeper and deeper inside her under the pain and darkness infecting her from the mark, but still there. Sure she was a brat but sh could still be so sweet at times. And loving. And affectionate. Let that be the sister they see. Why should her pain matter now, when it never made a difference to how they judged her actions before. He reaches down to her cheek to fix her when he remembers he doesn’t have his grace. He gave it to Ariel to help her treat Helel seven years ago. And now Helel has it around her neck. What’s left of it.

He absolutely doesn’t want to speak to Helel. He knows she’ll just point out how it’s his fault. But Gabrielle deserves to be shown as who she was when she was on her way to becoming again. Besides it’s not as if he isn’t to blame for this. He never should have left her. And of course when he goes out to see him she’s comforting the other Raphael. 

He just doesn’t understand how and why they can be like this. Is that Raphael so much better than he is? Maybe it wasn’t all lies and manipulation to try and make sure Raffi cared enough to put his all into saving her. Maybe Helel was actually genuinely reaching out to him, trying to make amends as much as she could in case she did die.

Then again it didn’t last. When they brought her back, everything went back to the way it was. If it had been real then it would have lasted. He’s not going to fall for it again. Maybe if Helel tried when she didn’t need something from him he might, maybe try to give him a chance. Maybe. Possibly. It doesn’t seem likely. At the very least, he knows in Helel’s eyes, he just doesn’t measure up to the other Raphael.


	36. Princess of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helel gives her brother back his grace.  
> Luc tries to be supportive  
> Riley talks with Jeff after being denied entry to visit Chris  
> Azrael has a talk with Chris about his previous actions.  
> Riley's given a terrible decision to make.

Chapter 36 Princess of Darkness

Helel pats the other Raphael hand and whisper something to him. Raphael nods letting Helel stand up on his own. She’s clearly struggling. She’s barely in control of her own body and every step looks painful or at least exhausting. Still its remarkable she’s even this mobile. Ariel is a remarkable healer. She used his grace well. Raffi tried not to look at them as Raphael stands up and heads towards the kitchen. He pauses to put a comforting hand on Raffi’s shoulder.

Raffi looks to his sibling, trying to find the words to say or at least the nerve to move towards him. He’s not sure whether to feel grateful or not when Helel starts to come over to him. There’s little grace in the movement but still dignity. Not only that but despite the fact that she’s clearly a devastated wreck, The Angel of Angels still has a sense of majesty about her. The obvious weakness only frames the true depths of her strength, somehow the dimage of perfection in is imperfectness. That much hasn’t changed.

“I’m sorry.” More world shattering statements from his sibling. “I should have been there. I should have been less of an unreasonable jealous ass to you and Harahel. If I hadn’t treated you both so horribly, I would have been, and so would you.” He looks so contrite Raffi doesn’t know what to say or do. He briefly wonders if he’s slipped into an alternative universe, but since there’s no mirror, he’s not sure how he could have. It’s even more surprising when Helel takes his hand in both of hers.

“We’re going to have a discussion later after we all look at her will. I’m a little surprised she actually left one. I mean it’s surprisingly organized for her. Especially since she made it when she was in high school apparently with only a few adjustments maybe a week ago. In regards to bringing her back. I think it should be your decision. After all, not only are you our father gave her to you to take care of so in regards to her welfare it should be your say. If you aren’t ready to have her back. If you still need more time, then I’ll support that. If you just don’t want to come back at all then that’s okay too. If you want her back immediately, that’s your choice. Whatever you decide, I want you to know I’ll support you and your needs whatever they may be. I’ve already talked to Mule about this and he feels the same way.”

  
Raffi nods. It’s not Helel’s fault. In the condition he’s in there’s not even a chance he could have helped get Michael and Mary back. Besides the fae courts are different. As good as Helel is with misdirection and partial truths, she’s no where near Oberon and Titania’s level. Neither is she familiar with all the rules, spoken and unspoken, or the histories and relationships needed to successfully navigate their world. It would likely take years to teach her everything she’d need to know. 

The fact that she almost always has a sort of arrogance about her wouldn’t make her any friends in the court. Bree’s big success is in being cute and playful and sexually adventurous, as well as knowing what lines she can and can’t cross. She’s also incredibly good at apologizing and making amends on her own terms. She’s sort of Oberon and Titania’s pet in a way. Helel could never pull that off.

He should probably tell her that. Point out that there’s no circumstances where Bree would ever have gotten Helel involved. She made it very clear that she never wanted Raphael to enter Avalon, ever and explained her reasoning very clearly. It wasn’t just her possessiveness of him, but that he would have found himself in positions he never wanted to be in and couldn’t get gracefully out of. One thing Raphael’s never managed to do is be charming in any way. He also can’t seem to bring himself to offer comfort to the sibling he hates caring about. 

Besides the other things she feel guilty about she should feel guilty about. She doesn’t feel bad about things nearly as often as she should. She certainly has no right to look to him to absolve her. Things are as they are, though. His own absence was much more detrimental to the situation. He also doubts the conversation is over yet. Helel is rarely so brief, so Raffi just waits for him to keep going. But instead of talking, Helel just takes off the necklace where she’s placed his fairly reduced grace as a large pendant. 

“ Thank you for this. I know you tried your best to save me the first time. I’m ashamed I ever thought otherwise. You’re better than that. I always knew that I just… I’m sorry. I’ve been an ass.”

“Yes, I already know that.” Oddly enough his response makes Helel give a fond smile, instead of pissing her off.

“Do you need anything else right now? Materially? Just let me know.”

“No. Just this, actually.” Raffi looks at the ball of crystalized grace. “I’ll bring it back in a minute.”

“Keep it.” Helel folds his hands around it. “I’m fine now. Besides, it belongs to you.”

“You are absolutely not fine.”Raffi calls him out.

“We both know that this is the best I can hope for, for a very long time. You can make better use of it.”

“Interference isn’t always the best course of action. I really thought it would be easier being around people if I couldn’t feel their pain. It was for a while, until they got hurt beyond what I could repair as I was. Being human though, I get to sleep and dream. I get to be alone with my thoughts, alone with my own feelings, I thought that would make it easier to sort through them, maybe resolve or understand them. I have my doubts that was true either. I haven’t been able to move past the things I probably should. I just leaned that I don’t really know anything. Asking me to make any kind of decision on this today, is just cruel.” Raffi turns away and walks back to the living room.

“You need to go to help Helel before he passes out.” He informs Michael. Of course theres a large thump in the other room. Raffi just sighs and closes his eyes. Helel never wants to ask for help, never. Raffi is just not in the place to offer it. Not yet. Michael rushes out to her immediately, like a good big sister.

It’s only Bree’s human vessel that’s lying there, destroyed. She’s likely in neverland, as Balthazar dubbed it. Helel’s was surprisingly dark and oppressing. He can only imagine what Bree’s must be like with all the pain and anger and torment she’s gone through. Helel mentioned dreams. What would Bree’s be like. He uses the grace to smooth out and restore her skin, her body inside and out. As for clothing he puts her in something as close to her heavenly robes as he can. It doesn’t look the same with breasts in the way, not that she really does. But she’s still beautiful. She looks at peace now. It’s an illusion he gladly holds onto, even though he knows better.

  
  
  


“Where have you been” The Duck asks as Riley comes back into the hotel room. He doesn’t seem the least concerned about the fact that she stole his money and drawn all over his face. In fact the question is casually curious and not angry or accusing as she would have expected. Of course he seems to have changed his mind about her being evil incarnate.

“Learning some interesting things. I’m going to go back to the hospital to try and see Chris again.” She starts taking various weapons out of her bag and off her person, except of course for the obsidian dagger in her boots. 

“To apologize?” Luc asks carefully. She is of course, but she absolutely does not want to admit to him she’s going to do what he’s suggesting.

“He should be calmed down by now. He knows I didn’t mean it like that. I was just… calling him out, forcing him to face the truth. I’m not apologizing to him for keeping him from retreating into a fantasy world.”

“Says the one covered in protective words and sigils.” He teases her. Riley just turns to look at him coldly. “Don’t tell me you believe in all that Ghost Facer shit.”

“Have you forgotten I’m the Devil’s daughter?” She reminds him and heads back out of the hotel room. The Duck quickly follows her out.

“You need to apologize for being an asshiole, Riley.” He informs her as they get on the elevator. “He was unconscious for days after very intensive surgeries. He’d just woken up. He didn’t have time to deal with any of what happened to him in any way and you go blasting in at the speed and gentility of a thermonuclear detonation, like you always do.” He goes to put a hand to her cheek, but stops before touching her.. “You are an explosion of fire and flame, barely contained. Mon chou. Someone who went through what he went through needs the gentle warmth and soothing dance of a fireplace. He is the only one I have seen you give such warmth to. Why can you not give that to him now?”

Riley bows her head forward, her cheek brushing slightly against his palm. So he takes that as a sigil to caress her cheek and brush back her hair before embracing her. She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t really return the gesture but she doesn’t attack or injure him in anyway, so it’s alright.

“I didn’t protect her. I wasn’t there for the only person in my life that truly matters to me. I don’t know if I can protect him.” Her shoulders start to shake. “I’m not crying. I can’t cry. I have to take care of him. He’s too kind, too gentle, too understanding. Chris has always been too nice to the fans.”

“But not to the press.” Luc chuckles.

“We are wonderful to the press.” Riley protests, though she twitches a small smile and breaks away. “And you know it.”

“You two are completely different people when you’re together. Did you know that?” He comments fondly.

“Of course. We are two halves of a whole after all.” Riley’s smile fades. “We’re not complete without each other.”

“Okay. I’m not judging but you two do have an extremely close relationship. Maybe a little too close?” 

“Seriously? If we had that kind of relationship, I sure as hell wouldn’t have needed you. Asshole.” She shoves him away. 

“Oh you need me.” He grins. “How badly do you need me?

“Not enough to put up with you being a perverted bastard. Don’t project your issues onto me.” She grabs his collar. “I am not some angel on a pedestal you can shame and I’m not the fucking devil that you can just make any accusation you want and feel that it’s okay. Much less start flirting with me about it!”

“That’s not what I was trying to… look. I’m sorry.” He just decides to back down/ “Riley, it was a stupid question at a stupid time and an even more stupid place.” He pleads. Riley looks at him, considering.

“Say ‘stupid’ again,”

“I am the most stupid man in the world, Riley. Please forgive me. I just want to understand what you’re going through.”

“Well the person I love and care for the most in all of existence is crippled and hates me. My cousin might be trying to kill him like she killed the other man I loved or ever will. My life in the olympics is over if I don’t ‘love’ my idiot rival who just asked me if I’m this upset because Chris is really my incestuous lover. Like some stupid Luke and Leia fan fic. Because a tabloid illegally posted blurred out nude photos of us having sex in an out of service family bathroom with you. Chris is mad about that because we hates you and it broke a celibacy pact we made to avoid our biological genders from being known until it’s either obvious or we decided on a gender. In regards to that it was my idea in the first place, so he was always going to be extra mad about it when he found out.”

“If I were your brother and you cock-blocked me like that and then did this. I might have murdered you.” Luc considers, feeling even more sympathy for Chris. 

“You’d have tried.” Riley snorts. 

“I thought he had a girl friend though?”The Duck frowns

“No, that was just a friend of the woman he loves. Girlfriend made for a more snappy captions. Besides, I doubt anyone took it seriously. I would like to ask her where she got that enormous death by chocolate. That said it shouldn’t have mattered anyways because he was too fixated on Abigail to even look at another woman that way. “

“Wait did you say your cousin was trying to kill him and has already killed somebody?”  Luc blinks, her earlier words finally sinking in. “And isn’t your cousin named Abigail.

“Oh for god’s sake. Will you focus on the important parts? She’s already broken his heart in the most cruel way possible. It seems he found Ben naked in her bed the morning after. Or afternoon after. Why are my brother's such fucking idiots! You want evil incarnate, she’s evil incarnate. The fucking Princess of Darkness,” Riley stops walking down the sidewalk. “You need to leave. Right now.”

“What kind of man would I be if I left my lover in her time of need?” The Duck retreats into flirting as he has no idea what the fuck else to do right now. She lets him put his arms around her with nothing more than an irritated sigh.

“One who respects her feeling and needs and values his soul. Feel free to go where you like. I’ll come find you when I need some violent angry sex.” Riley moves away and takes out her wallet. “Here this should get you to an ATM.” She stuffs a twenty down the front of his pants. “Don’t follow me. Oh, The room and room service has been switched to my card, do treat yourself. No porn unless you want my mother knowing exactly what you like to watch. And If you’ve ever seen CasaErotica3000, never let anyone know, especially don’t rent it because ‘My Aunt Bree is in it, and you will be heavily judged. Especially by me. Also my Aunt will start bringing it up in incredibly uncomfortable ways because she’s a little shit like that. She enjoys watching people squirm.”

“Ah.” He wisely refrains from commenting that she and Chris must take after her a lot. “Please let me go with you.”

“No. I don’t hate you enough for that?” Riley reaches up to caress his cheek, and odd pitying look in her eyes. “Will you please just trust me?”

“I’m afraid to.” Luc confesses. He looks genuinely concerned and likely to follow or anyways, so Riley decides to throw him a bone.

“Can you help me with something at least?” He just nods. “Go to this address.” She writes it backwards on his forehead. “And pick up an order for Spawn of Satine. Give them this and deliver it to chris.” She hands him a slip. “Don’t worry, It’ll get past security. I’ll meed you at the hospital once I go do my thing. Okay?” He’s given a kiss on the cheek which worries him immensely. “I’ll have my cellphone on. Call me if you have trouble.”

“Yes, you as well.” He reluctantly lets go.

“Oh, yeah, it’s already paid for. Don’t give them anything they ask for, especially not your name.” She flicks his nose and walks off. Luc laughs with a relieved smile. She’s just screwing with him. Which is good. It means she feels better. He takes out his phone to take a picture of his forehead reflecting in a shiny surface and heads out.

“We need to talk.” Chris is very much surprised to find the Angel of death sitting on the side of his bed. 

“Hi, Aunt Billie. It’s nice to meet you.” He’s only slightly awkward with his greeting.

“Oh, right. Nice to meet you too. Are you going by Chris or Jean- Michele.” Angel asks politely. 

“I don’t even care anymore.” He looks away. She just pats his leg sympathetically.

“You’re not the first person to feel this way. You won’t be the last but most of you are  wrong about your situation. You definitely are.” She’s prepared for him to protest or interrupt but he just sighs. “I’m not saying your pain is invalid or even less than you think it is, but what you’ve been through, are going through, will go through, its not the end of happiness or fulfilment. Neither will it last forever. You’re only seventeen, you can still grow and flourish, learn and teach. You can still define your own purpose. If it’s not what you thought it would be, that’s nothing new or even bad. But if figure skating is still it, you will absolutely find a way. Your family will never abandon you. Or your friends.” Her words are so matter of fact it doesn’t quite annoy him. In fact her annoyance at his family’s devotion makes him smile a little.

“Mom and Riley do seem to here a scorched earth policy when it comes to the protection of their loved ones.” Chris admits.

“And destroying them.” Azrael mutters. “They would tear apart the world and all of existence for you. So would your brothers even if you’re not that close to them. Can you imagine what it would be like if you died?”

“What if no one killed me, though? If it was just…” Chris struggles a bit to find a softer way to put it, “My decision.”

“.I would have to deal with so much shit. You have no idea. Your mother thinks she’s in charge of everything regardless of anything. It’s hard enough having Raphael hate me for Alex when he of all people should understand why we shouldn’t do resurrections unless it’s to directly help prevent an extinction event, but Michael’s bad enough as he is right now. He would one hundred percent blame me if I did what I’m supposed to do with your soul when you die.”

“I don’t know, I think mom would respect my decision. Wouldn’t he? He respected Dad’s. Everyone did.” Chris protests. 

“Your father was a very special case. It complicated but he was starting to truly suffer for him crimes. The guilt and shame was destroying him. I know you may not want to hear it, but it was all deserved a thousand times over. And I doubt you’ll find an angel in heaven who has pity for it after what he’d put them all through.”

“I know. But forgiveness and redemption isn’t about that the guilty party deserves. It’s about what their victims deserve and what’s best for society in the long run. Even if it feels temporarily more satisfying to know someone is being punished and suffering horribly for what they did, society is helped more by repairing every damaged soul they can, than destroying them further. The more people are contributing to the welfare and survival of humanity the better off we all are. As for dad, I think that even if he only became half as beneficial as he was destructive, that would be enough reason to forgive him and support him in his attempts to be a better person. But I didn’t… I knew he was getting tired of living. I just didn’t know what to do about it. I thought loving him was enough, but maybe I should have told somebody, or talked to somebody or… I shouldn’t have pushed him to go save Riley. Ben would have done the right thing eventually. He wouldn’t have let Legion hurt Riley…”

“Ah, Chris,” Azrael sighs and puts her hand so gently on one of his that he almost feels it and without pain. “Your father didn’t need encouragement, to do what he did. And the only reason your mother wasn’t tearing through existence to find him were you and Riley, and your cousins. The pure emotional exhaustion of everyone else kept them from doing it. And all their responsibilities. But I think that maybe just maybe now that your Uncle doesn’t have your Aunt to worry about and take care of, he’ll try to find him and drag him back to the land of the living whether he wants it or not. It’d probably take a while, but what do you think it would do to him to learn that you followed his example and killed yourself in some misguided attempt to protect your loved ones from the damage you think staying alive would do?”

“He’d be okay. He’d understand, right? He’d have to.” The possibility however unlikely, that he wouldn’t, makes Chris feel kind of strange.

“Did Riley understand?” Azrael brushes Chris’ hair back behind his ear as the teenager’s heart starts to sink inside him. “Most suicidal people think their loved ones would be better off without them. I’m sure you did, or you never would have tried that. But answer this. Was anything actually better because your father died? Were you and your loved ones better off? At all? And Sam Winchester doesn’t count.”

“No. Mom’s a mess. Riley’s a mess. Dad would have known what to do for Abigail and Uncle Raph after Aunt Alex died. They really kind of need him I think. Shelly pretends to be fine, but I know she’s not. She’s going through a lot right now. She and Abigail have grown so far apart. If dad was here… I just… I feel so empty. Dad, he saw me, you know. I could sometimes hide things from Riley but not Dad. When he looked to me and talked to me he always saw me, not the me I try to be, you know the fake it till you make it principle.” Chris goes to wipe his eyes but quickly remembers that he can’t without hurting himself. Tris has been doing it for him.  He really kind of wishes she was here right now. “Sometimes it feels like I’m already dead and all that’s left are everybody’s favorite masks.”

“You’re a lot like your uncle. Hurt by everyone else’s pain. Always trying to be what he thought they needed him to be. Sweet and caring, loving to excess. Did you know that he went through something comparable to what you just went through before you were born. He’s pretty much come to terms with it, but you should talk to him about this. He’ll understand better that anyone else could. But could you do me a favor? When I restart time, could you call your doctors and nurses and tell them how you’re feeling. They can help you with these overwhelming feeling enough to let you get your thoughts in order and set yourself straight. Your aunt was training several of my younger siblings to be peer counselors. I’ll see if there are any that you can talk to. It’ll be easier to have someone you can tell anything and everything too.”

“I’ll find somebody to talk to.” Chris promises. “And I guess I’ll talk to my doctor about this. Maybe medication will help.”

“You can and will get through this, honey. Just give life a chance and don’t keep all your pain inside. It feels so much bigger and more unbearable when you try to bear it all on your own. Okay?” She takes out a handkerchief and gently dries his eyes and cleans up his face.

“Thanks for not telling my mom about that.”

“If you don’t do what you promised by the end of the day, I absolutely will. But you know, otherwise I won’t, if you don’t want to yet. This’ll definitely ruin my reputation. People will think I’ve gone soft.” She chucks his chin. “Remember, do it today or else. And I’m only doing this because I don’t want to deal with your mother. I don’t care about you at all. I certainly won’t check in on you every now and then to make sure you’re okay.” She winks at him with a smile. Chris smiles back and nods. “Good.”

She vanishes without saying goodbye. Chris isn’t sure if he should be relieved or even more depressed. His mother didn’t find out, but it’s been made clear that death is not a real option for him. There’s no escape from anything, ever.

“What do you mean I’m not allowed inside?”Riley shoves the security guard’s arm aside. “Don’t fucking touch me. We’re fucking twins. I have a right to see my twin.”

“Not if he specifically said not to admit you. I’m sorry but he has his own rights.” The guard doesn’t sound nearly sorry enough.

“No. Chris would never do that. You go upstairs, tell him I’m here and he will correct this bullshit!”

“Riley.” She looks over to see Jeff sitting on a nearby bench. He just gives her a sympathetic smile and waves her over.

“Can you believe this bullshit?” She stands in front of him.

“It’s not bullshit, Riley. He needs some space right now.” Jeff informs her quietly. “He needs some peace and quiet. Riley, he needs to be able to rest and not have to spend his energy caring for and comforting anyone but himself for a little while. You can’t give him that right now. You’re not good at holding back your feelings. And when you’re distressed he’s distressed.” Riley wants to argue but the honest part of herself won’t let her. “It’s okay. You’re upset and angry, I get it. He gets it, but if you’re there he’ll be just as distressed at your distance. He needs that energy to heal, not focus on you. And don’t pretend you can look at him right now without getting upset or worked up yet.”

“He needs me, though. He has to.” Riley wrestles the tears starting to leak from her eyes. “You don’t understand. We have to be together. We have to. He’s the only good thing about me!”

“He does need you. Of course he does but he needs you calm and quiet. And relaxed. He needs you hopeful, and supportive. He can’t help wanting to care for you when you’re not okay. It’s been that way since you’ve been born, did you know that? When Chris was born, he was so alert and not the least distressed. He just looked around at everything quietly taking it all in. They gave him a low score because of that, but it was obviously not because he didn’t have the breath to do so. But as soon as you came out, you were pissed. You did not like the change of scenery probably because hospitals are always so cold. And you were not shy of voicing your displeasure. That’s when Chris began to cry.”

“Really?”

“It was the same way with you, too. If Chris started to cry for any reason, even just a whimper, you would scream like you were being murdered until he was taken care of. It took us a while to figure out that we just needed to take care of the one of you that cried first most of the time and the other would be fine. But you’re not babies anymore. You’re not the only thing the other has in the world. And you’re both very much your own people. This is about what he needs right now. You’re distressed about what’s been done to him. But he’s the one it’s been done to. Your pain is second hand. It’s real but it’s not worse than his. You’re just louder and he needs to be listened to, and even allowed not to talk and not to have his strength put towards anything, but healing.” 

“Am I really that bad? That you don’t think I can control myself?”

“You know you are.” Jeff sighs, not sure if this trend of her not cursing him out is going to last much longer, but it needs to be said. “You’re so much like your mother. Hot blooded, hot tempered, flaming passions. Your emotions are like an erupting volcano. You don’t even seem to want to control them. Since your father died you’ve been absolutely merciless to everyone. Do you remember what you said to Ben when he came back to see how you were doing?”

“Yes.” she bows her head. “I apologized, but I think that I have and have had the right to be angry about all the shit I’ve been through.” She tenses up defending herself.

“Of course, you do. That doesn’t mean it’s helpful, though. And it isn’t. Not to anyone. Not to your mother, not to Chris, and especially not you. What has it done for you except keep you angry and miserable?” Much to his relief she’s silent. She even seems to be listening and considering what he says. “Everything will be alright, Riley. Chris will be alright.. He’s safe now. And healing. Your mother is with him….. Tris is with him, taking care of him when Mike can’t. I’m here in the evenings when he needs me and the weekends, I should have enough money to afford to stop working when Chris is ready to come home.”

“Tris? Why the hell is she there? They’re not friends. She’s Abigail’s little crony.” Riley frowns. “And he’s not safe. Abigail wants him dead.”

“What? That makes no sense. Why would you even think that?” He blurts out before he can stop himself.

“She’s not the little miss perfect everyone thinks she is. She’s an evil selfish manipulative bitch. She killed JJ, took over hell, and now she’s turned Ben into a fucking simpazee.” Riley notices Jeff’s confusion at the statement. “Meaning she’s got him simping for him so hard he’s fucking devolved.”

“Oh. I do know what a simp is. I just wasn’t aware it stuck around so long.” Jeff shakes his head. “But I wouldn’t call him that.”

“She conned him out of half his grace and is getting him to marry her. MARRY her! Little Miss ‘I will never love again’. After less than a month after her mother died, to which she hasn’t even seemed to care about. Maybe she arranged that, too. Who the hell knows? I know no one’s really going to believe me. But I can’t just calm down when yet another absolute monster of a human being is trying to kill him!”

“Okay.” Jeff gets up and tries to follow her furious pacing. “Let’s assume that everything you said about who she really is, is true. Say she’s an amoral monster. She’s still Abigail, a practical, reliable, responsible, sensible creature, who is intent on not causing her relatives problems. If the goals are different the actions are still the same, right? There is still absolutely no reason for her to go after Chris. At all. Ever. And every reason not to. Reasons such as every single member of your family? They are starting to listen to you. Your uncle half brother, whatever Dean is already suspicious of her. He’s not going to reject your claims out of hand. Or think his assessment of Abigail is better than yours. Your mother, well, we don’t even want to get into that right now. And there’s also you, who would never rest until she is absolutely destroyed if she did something like that. She definitely wouldn’t be able to do something to you because that’d be an outright admission of guilt. That would be much more trouble than it’s worth. Especially if she has Ben’s grace. With that kind of power, no one’s a threat to her. I mean, I know I don’t know her as well as you, but whatever else she is, she’s definitely practical.” 

“Yes well, a lot of things aren’t practical but people do them anyways. Even her.”Riley returns. “Ego, pride, over confidence, underestimating others. That’s what got dad taken down and that’s what will bring her down too. I can promise you that.: She half shoves the takeout bag into his hands. “This is for Chris. The Duck is bringing something to help him relax and ease pain. Legal herbal stuff. Take it to him when Luc gets here.” Riley storms off without another word. Jeff just doesn’t get it. No one does. They’re all under her spell. What does Jeff know about evil anyways? He still doesn’t even understand angels.

“Your majesty.” That damn demon is back.

“You have something interesting to say, I hope.” She snaps at him.

“We’ve found some valuable information.”

“So soon?” Riley raises an eyebrow.” Weren’t we just discussing how completely outmatched and outplayed we are in terms of challenging or defeating her in any way shape or form. No one believes me anyways. She has everyone fooled.”

“She doesn’t have you fooled.” He says with admiration.

“Don’t.” Riley stops and gives him a withering glance. “There is only one reason I’m having anything to do with you at all. One reason I want her dead. She killed the man I love which was bad enough, but now she’s trying to kill Chris. Unfortunately you haven’t given me anything to back me up on that. I have no proof of anything, which I very much need. You’re all useless pieces of shit. Helpless, devious, untrustworthy, power hungry pieces of shit, who just want a puppet put on hells throne so you can be the power behind it. Which you disgusting creatures absolutely will not get from me. In fact, I might just kill all of you for the hell of it.” Riley ignores the genuinely fond smile on the demon’s face at that statement. Demon’s are just weird.

“I was actually thinking of something along those lines.” He smiles, though he’s really thinking how much she reminded him of her father just now. “You’re very inexperienced and should it come down to it, you’d have an extra disadvantage against our queen.”

“And that is….” Riley prods. She hates it when they go for dramatic tension.

“You’ve never killed before.”

“Clearly you’ve never seen us at a press conference.” Riley winks at the child.

“Riley, if you’re not prepared to kill if you have to, you’ve already lost. Do you think Jamal is the only death to her credit?” Her throne is built atop a mountain of corpses. Most of them of them human ones. Her body count is in the thousands. And not quick gentle deaths, either, brutal, violent soul warping torturous deaths.” This makes Riley stop short and look down at him. Uncertainty fills her for the first time since JJ’s funeral. “Or did you think there wasn’t a price to be paid for Beatrice’s salvation? Has any part of vampirism not involved an ocean of blood?”


	37. Decisions Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RIley considers her situation and strategy.  
> The Duck has a breif conversation with Riley's mother.

Chapter 37 Decisions Decisions

The reality of what Riley would be facing starts to sink in. She sits down heavily on the ground in the back alley, leaning against the nearest dumpster. Abigail has always been better than her in every way. She’s smarter, more capable, calmer, more powerful, and even a better fighter. Well, technically Shelly surpasses even Abigail, but she never does anything with any of it in any meaningful way. Besides, Abigail has her wrapped around her little finger. She may be content to just avoid her older cousin for now, but all it would take would be a pair of beseeching eyes for whatever she needs.

Abigail has always been in control. She can devastated any of them with the right words. She’s loved and doted on by every adult, even though she technically is one now. They trust her like they trust each other. Maybe more. Abigail has never disappointed them. All that accusing her and hating her for what Riley knows she did has made them question Riley’s Judgement. Just like she knew they would.

They think she’s being irrational even if they haven’t said as much to her face. She knows they do. Sure, they’re sympathetic, pity her, and try to help her. It’s infuriating. Even when they decided to have a family meeting about Abigail. They didn’t include Riley and somehow that witch managed to turn them into her fucking servants! Everyone is always on her side. Even Chris and now her loyal demons are trying to destroy him!

There are so many demons actively supporting her, even more not willing to cross her, determined to take the wait and see approach. Then there’s the absolutely massive power she has now. Unlimited power at that or close enough to count. She’s limited only to her imagination of which she’s always had plenty. 

That’s not even mentioning her martial skills, taught to her by Riley’s own mother. She’s always been a better fighter even though Riley’s long since surpassed him in strength and agility. When she can think at least. Abigail is always calm, controlled, always able to enrage her enough to lose her focus or ability for rational thought. Not only do Riley and whatever demons oppose Abigail have no chance, everyone knows it. 

Abigail definitely knows it. After all, Abigail may now be the most powerful most formidable human being alive. No wonder she just dismisses Riley as if she and her accusations mean nothing. At best when she lost her temper at the funeral, it was because Abigail was tired and annoyed at Riley’s attempt to expose her. Which she wouldn’t have been if she wasn’t guilty. JJ meant nothing to her. That was more than obvious, especially after she killed him. 

Her reaction was just like that outburst she had about mosquitos after Riley’d father died. 

Except this time she didn’t start crying and get violent like she did when she set all the mosquitos in a quarter mile radius on fire with a blood spell revealing that she’d been studying witch craft. To which nobody did anything but have a serious talk with her alone and were so satisfied with her answers that they let her fucking continure her studies under their oversight They even helped her expand her studies. FUCKING WITCHCRAFT! 

If Abigail’s in the habit of killing and has killed people, then if pressed she would have no problem killing Riley, then she did the mosquitos. She’d probably be glad for the excuse. Though it would be pretty hard to excuse given how ridiculously over powered she is. But it wouldn’t be much more trouble than Riley is now.

No, that’s not True. It would be far more inconvenient and annoying than she finds Riley right now and that has to be mostly because she almost poses a threat to her. At the very least, Riley has finally started to get to her. But it would shake her relationship with everyone, plant doubt, and show more of ger true self than she’d want seen. At least for a good while. But at the very least, no matter what everyone else thought, it would finally open Chris’ eyes. Maybe even Ben’s and Ben could defeat her with ease. If course he’d hesitate and then she’d kill him herself. That would bring his family into this. Even if Riley can’t win against her, her actions could potentially trigger Abigail’s downfall.

But she’d much rather win. It would be better all around if she could kill her and do it quickly before anyone goes after Chris again. Though, she’s so unbothered by Riley that if she was attacked, she’d never take her cousin or her skills seriously. All Abigail would do is toy with her until she’s spent and take her back home to be punished or something. She wouldn’t even have to touch her.

She’s so powerful that she’d only have to use her spellcasting skills to do so. Though she’d probably do it that way with as little effort as necessary, if only to completely and utterly humiliate her little cousin. Like when she wanted to make it clear that she did not and would not make time to teach Riley chess by utterly crushing her in the first minute, telling her to come back when she wasn’t a waste of her time. Every single time Riley tried, there was no mercy and neither would Abigail be gracious or accommodating about it.

If Riley could secretly fix at least some of the things Abigail’s likely to take advantage of, to defeat her, and feigned otherwise, it could give her an edge in physical combat. But she’d have to eliminate the issue of her using magic or whatever you call the use of angel grace. If she could manage both of these two things, it could give her a real advantage, if only for a few moments. A few moments could mean everything in combat.

If she could disable her without killing her, and have some sort of indisputable proof… She could finally make everyone take her seriously. Leaving her alive will be proof enough that she’s not overcome by her own rage. Though with the proof, everyone would understand it if she did end up killing her. After all Riley is so very outmatched, it could easily have been the only real option in defending her own life.

Eliminating her ability to fight or cast would require the elimination of her new power source and her tongue or at least her ability to speak. Also her dominant hand. Cutting off the hand with the jeweled grace should effectively do both. Maybe some sort of poison or paralyzing agent on the blade. Though she might have given herself immunity to poisons or something like that, preemptively.

IF Riley needs to cut her tongue out, she’d have to do it quickly. Maybe when Abigail’s reeling from the shock of having her hand cut off. Evil or not, pain is pain. She’s never been hurt that badly before, or even close. She won’t be able to shrug it off like Riley’s learned how to do. So Riley will have to get close and move faster than she ever has before.

She’ll have to practice her speed, specifically cutting off hands and tongues in rapid succession. She’ll need a slicing weapon. A super sharp one like a scalpel and strong enough to cut through bone at least once. That will probably require two different blades which means two handed combat. Riley’s left handed like her mother, but managed to make her right side just as function as her left. Chris did the same with his left so they’d still match and could more easily pretend to be each other when they were small enough to pull it off. It never worked with their immediate family, or Abigail or Shelly, but everyone else was fair game. 

At least they could until they used it to start taking each other’s tests. Riley was better at math and Chris was better at English. That’s when their father told everyone an easy way to tell them apart without full nudity, a way he secretly used when they were babies after their weights evened out. A UV pen. He’d had the last digits of their social security number tattooed on the back of their necks, magically by their aunt, of course. 6160 and 6660 for Chris and Riley respectively. Another thing which they’re fairly sure their Aunt had something to do what those numbers, too. It’s absolutely not funny at all like most of their aunts attempts at humor. Fortunately that tid bit was not leaked to the press.

Their father would have known what to do about Abigail. He wouldn’t have been fooled. He probably could have kept the whole thing from happening. JJ would be alive. Nobody would have dared hurt Chris. He could have kept Riley from beign so stupid, and taught her how to show Jamal that she was the one he should really have been with.

Abigail never loved him. She was just using him because he was safe, reliable, and doted on her in a reasonable manner. Abigail openly thought he was stupid, though he wasn’t. She thought he was ordinary, thought he was clearly extraordinary. Sure he’d been taught certain things he needed to unlearn. And wasn’t good at school work. But compared to Abigail, who doesn’t fall short? He was kind and handsome and gentle. He was fun.

She didn’t treat him right. She never did. She should have been grateful to have someone so balanced and well rounded and perfect. He was everything good about the world. He was humble and unassuming. There wasn’t an ounce of arrogance in him. Not like The Duck, his exact opposite. JJ deserved to be told he was wonderful every day and treated like a king every bit as much as he treated Abigail like a queen.

Abigail took all of that away, from Riley, from the world. And now she’s trying to do the same thing to Chris. And Ben. She has to be stopped at all costs. Riley will have to improve her swordwork, speed, agility, and mastering her temper at least enough not to lose her ability to think. That will be the hardest part of all. But the demon is right. As terrible and violent as her thoughts and feelings are, she’s never committed even the mildest atrocities that Abigail apparently has. She can’t afford any hesitation in bringing that bitch down, Whether through death or dismemberment.

It’s a heavy price to pay. Riley is well aware of that. Doing what she’ll need to do to prepare will stain her soul, maybe irreparable. If they may tell her they forgive her. They may point out that if her father’s crimes were forgiven, hers can easily be as well. But that’s the thing. His crimes were never really forgiven. Not by them, not by anybody. Oh, they think they did, but they clearly haven’t. Especially not her mother. The more she thought about it the more obvious ti became.

There was no real trust, no real faith, no respect. Their mom never stopped using their dad’s dead names. He never really trusted him to do the right thing when it really mattered and convinced everyone else not to either. Yeah, they loved each other, but it was never really enough. Every time they fought, that was more than clear. Their dad could never be enough.

So she’s always known there was a price to her mother’s love. One she was destined to fall short of. Her soul was damned from the start. She’s never been the good twin. Even from birth she was larger from having stolen food and resources from Chris. He’s the good one. The wonderful one, the best of both their mother and father while she’s the worst of them. Doing this would just prove it true, send her down into what she was destined to become anyway. But it’s worth it for Chris.

He’s worth paying any price for. With his life in danger, how could she even hesitate? What he’s suffering and will suffer because of that woman is more than reason enough. His safety is worth everything she has to give. Abigail will never take anyone she loves away from her again. NEVER!

“Are you okay?” The demon asks awkwardly as Riley looks up at him again. She wasn’t crying at all, but she was very still and very silent for a long time which is incredibly disconcerting.

“I have a plan.” She stands up. “I need access to the best swordsmen and close combat knife specialists in hell, long daggers specifically, a magical blacksmith specializing in obsidian or scalpels sharp edges, a copy of the art of war, as many raping murderous stalkers as you can without being noticed, alive or dead it makes no difference. I’ll also need a safe place to practice in hell and a way to temporarily stop me from aging while I’m there to avoid suspicion. This is going to take a while and if I age even slightly faster, they’ll catch on at least long enough to stop me before I ready.”

When she looks at the demon, he sees the first aura of terrifyingly calm determination he’s seen from her. She’s radiating strength and authority, if not confidence. There’s at least no doubt or air of reluctant hesitation. Maybe there’s more of her father in her than they thought, or at least enough of her mother to help mold her into absolute ruthlessness. 

She just might be everything they need her to be after all.

When Luc enters the hospital he immediately sees Riley’s mother signing in up front.. In the moment where he debates turning around and waiting for Riley outside, it’s already too late. He’s been spotted. It occurs to him as Michael approaches him that Riley takes after her mother a lot more than he realized. Sure they largely move the same, but her mother’s been very calm, steady and patient whenever he’s seen him. He should not be surprised that the look in their eyes when in protective mode and the determined no nonsense way they hold them selves informing the person they’re focused on of a clear willingness to fuck them up is the same on both of them. He just hadn’t seen it on their mother before. He thought he’d seen Michael’s version but that was clearly just annoyance. Riley’s mother is somehow more frightening. Sure Riley is a barely contained explosion, but her mother gives the impression that they will never find his body because there will be nothing left to find.

“You had better not be coming to see Chris.”

“No. Riley had something to do so she had me pick something up for him.” He hands over the small box wrapped in brown paper and twine. 

“She asked you to pick this up?” Michael frowns.

“Yes. I think she might be doing a little better. She’s started screwing with my head again.” Luc informs him, hopefully.

“Come with me.” Michael takes hold of his arm and leads him to the nearest bathroom. Fully prepared for a beating, Luc steels himself. But all Riley’s mother does is take off Luc’s beanie, sigh and wets a paper towel. He also adds soap to it, muttering under his breath in that weird twin language Chris and Riley speak to each other in. He then proceeds to grab the back of Luc’s head with one hand and scrub his forehead with the other. It feels like he’s trying to remove an entire layer of skin through friction alone. It burns like a mother fucker, but when it’s over the ink is gone and his forehead looks fine.

“Did you give them anything they asked for?”

“No?”

“Did you tell them your name?”

“Sort of. The asked for it, but I figured if they didn’t know me by sight they’d know me from Riley, so I just told them to call me The Duck as that’s definitely what she’d use. I did leave a tip though, because I knew they had to deal with Riley at some point.”

“Was there a tip jar or a request for tips otherwise?”

“No.” Michael gives a sigh of relief at his answer. “They were ridiculously polite about it.”

“If they send you a gift, accept it, but never use it. Give it to Riley for safe keeping.”

Michael instructs him.

“ Well, now I know where Riley gets her sense of humor from.” Luc comments dryly and 

rolls his eyes a little.

“It’s not a joke, they don’t like being indebted.” Michael shakes his head. “I do need to talk to you, but now is not the time or place. Where is your hotel?”

“Four Blocks down.”

“Wait for me in the lobby at seven. We will talk then.”

“I’ll let Riley know.”

“I will as well.” Michael nods. 

“May I ask you a question?” Luc timidly ventures.

“Go ahead.”

“How is Chris doing? Riley was an as but it’s just because she’s so upset. Everyone knows how much she loves him. But she’s not very well. She needs her mother to tell her everything’s going to be alright. Maybe a therapist? If she damages her relationship with Chris too badly, I don’t think she will ever recover.” He suggests, and waits for the offended backlash.

“I’m glad to hear you’re genuinely concerned, but we are doing our best to take care of both of them. Therapy has crossed my mind, and we are in the process of addressing her mental health, unfortunately in therapy especially, there’s a matter of free will. You can’t force anyone to change their thinking, feelings, or behavior without unfo...horrific actions.” Michael quickly corrects himself, which causes the Duck to feel a lot more uncomfortable. “If you could in any way convince her she should go, I’d be grateful.”

“Very well. I will try. Ah, thank you for not killing me.” Luc gives an attempt at a bashful smile.

“Why on earth would I kill you for consensual sex with my daughter.” Riley’s mother raises an eyebrow at him. Luc shrugs not wanting to give him a reason to if he doesn’t have one. “You are on very thin ice given your previous aggressive bullying of my children. I’m not sure yet whether it being a way of flirting with my child makes it better or worse,”

“Okay.” Luc bites his lip, as there is no good reply to that. “May I ask another question?” Michael nods.” Your pronouns are he and him correct?” Another nod. “And you’re male presenting.”

“I believe Jeff called me Cishet presenting?” Michael frowns a little unsure. “My sister is better with modern terms.”

“Okay, so why do they call you their mother? If you’re a cishet man?” Luc asks. “ No judgement but usually a person’s gender and their gender roles match up? Are you perhaps non binary in a way?”

“I am their mother because that is and has always been my parental role.” He explains simply, which kind of makes sense, but doesn’t at the same time. It can’t have always been his parental role. “If you’ll excuse me I need to go stay with my child.”

“Of course. Do you think he’ll let Riley in any time soon?” Luc can’t help but asks 

because it would be wonderful to be able to tell Riley something positive.

“I don’t know.” Michael sighs, “But it won’t be today and probably not tomorrow either. I will see you this evening.” He walks out of the bathroom without another word. Luc just takes a breath and leans back against the wall near the hand dryer. After a moment, he puts his hat back on and goes outside to wait for Riley.   
  


  
  



	38. Inheritance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail makes sure the reading of the will goes smoothly and makes sure to take care of Ben  
> Riley does not expect what will actually be required of her to really save Chris.

Chapter 38 Inheritance

Abigail sits quietly at the table as the solicitor waits for everyone to be seated. A rather creepy playlist is on as they do so, as per the request of the deceased. So far there’s been a song about murder for hire, dismembering someone, two songs about stalking, an outright villain song that she kind of likes and one about the innate need to cause chaos and destruction. There’s an odd insertion of True Colors that seems to upset the other Raphael. Now there’s an odd Jpop song that makes their raphael laugh. Her own father twitches a smile when he’s shown the title in the playlist. She can’t see it. Probably a private joke.

Seeing her confusion, Ben leans over and whispers the name into her ear with a weak smile. She doesn’t quite get it, but her japanese is more than rusty, but given it’s labeled ‘Helel’s theme, she takes out her phone and records the chorus so she can try and find an english version. When a strangely familiar voice starts singing Sweet Transvestite. Both Raphael’s laugh out loud. Ben’s mother looks mortified for the briefest second, while his grandmother looks like she’s about to laugh as well.

Ben seems as confused as she is, so Abigail makes a mental note to ask her father. The thought of Mary, both Raphaels and Bree having a shared joke is just too intriguing. Especially given what she knows about their history. Also it might be some good information to have seeing at Ben’s mother seems to be the butt of the joke.

“Is everyone here?” Helel looks around.

“We’re still waiting for the rest of her children.” the other Raphael informs them.

“Her what?!”

“She has children?” Claire looks over to her Raphael.

“She’s somewhat adopted other children.” He explains. “In a way. She was male and having a fling with their mother who tried to say they were hers. She decided to play along. Of course she also killed or helped kill there biological father because he rejected them entirely.”

“Baldur was a steaming pile in this thread of existence too?” Abigail asks.

“Yes. I helped her find the right plant to use.” Their Raphael nods. “They did not deserve what was done to them.”

“Is Yuri still an ungrateful social climbing brat?” Her father asks.

“Yuri?”

“Gabrielle’s nickname for Jormungandr.”

“That’s not what she calls him here. Called. ” The other Raphael corrects himself. “I don’t think they’re going to come.”

“I’d think they’d come at the very least to make sure she’s really dead.” Abigail adds dryly. After all that’s a good part of why she’s there, which is fairly well understood, at least by Mary.

“She did have me contact them in a very strange way but her peculiarities are nothing new.” The lawyer comments. “They haven’t responded yet. We’re to wait until the day is over for them to arrive.”

“Excuse me.” Abigail gets to her feet. “I have to go do something.” She leans in to kiss Ben’s cheek. “I won’t be long and I’ll return with refreshments.” Her father raises an eyebrow at her. She gives him a brief nod and walks out of the room.

Helheim is right where it’s always been. But there are no valkyrie at the front gate so Valhalla must still be intact here. Or at the very least they’re not available for Hel’s use. There are a few guards but it’s no real effort to force them to let her in and allow her access all the way to the throne room.

It’s a very direct route to the throne room, that much is the same. One they determined that psychopomps are not counted as ‘the living’ and she could actually be around her Aunt Claire, Shelly would drag her up here to visit the norse trio sometimes. Alex had no interest in either playing with Rys or attempting to speak with Jormungandr, so she just stayed with Hel and observe her as she worked. Hel let her ask the occasional question and take notes. It was a wonderful learning experience.

“Excuse me, Hela of Neiflheim?” She greets the woman on the throne, who looks a little confused as Abigail’s escorted in without being announced. My apologies for my abruptness. I’m not here for adversarial reasons but I don’t have time for formalities. I’m Abigail Jones.” She bows. “I’ve come to ask you for an official response to the invitation to your father’s reading of the will today. We had the wake yesterday, but since none of her children have replied with a definite yes or no in regards to the will reading, We’ll all have to wait until until midnight to give the three of you time to show up. It’s incredibly inconsiderate to those who loved her. It’s even more annoying and inconvenient to those of us who are glad she’s dead and are only their for our loved ones.”

“You invaded my halls for that?” Hela looks surprised.

“I don’t think you understand exactly how little I want to be there. I meant no disrespect, if there are any tasks you need to do today, I’d be glad to do them for you after the reading ends in recompense.” Abigail offers.

“There’s nothing that can’t easily be pushed back. We certainly do not care to attend, though it would be prudent to do so if only to verify that he is in fact dead. I’m afraid it will take a good while to locate my brothers, though.” Hela apologizes.

“I’ll take care of that.” Abigail snaps her fingers and Fenris and Jormungandr appear in the main hall, much to their and Hela’s surprise. They’re both fully dressed in adequately former attire, though nothing that can indicate mourning. 

“Not bad.” Fenris puts his hands to his chest looking down at the dark purple suit with a golden brown shirt and accessories. Jormungandr just looks annoyed.

“Is this about Loki?” The world snake scowls. 

“Yes, we are attending the reading of his will.” Hela gives him a dark look.

“You are attending. I’m not in the mood for one of his jokes.” He starts to loosen his tie. “I certainly do not intend to mourn him. I will celebrate the fact he’s finally gone if that is the case, but that’s it.”

“It isn’t a joke.” Abigail informs him. “She died a horrible painful death. They’ll be discussing whether or not to bring her back to life later in the evening. I should think you’d want to have a say in that.”Abigail informs him.

“Fine, lets get this over with.” Jormungandr growls.

“Are all of you ready?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be, I suppose.” Hela shakes her head, though she turns her dress into a warm light pink gown and takes down the illusions hiding her horrifying scars which are much worse in this universe.”

“Of course, I’ll meet you there shortly. I have to pick up some refreshments.” Abigail informs them, and notices Fenris perk up a little at this. “You can starve.” She looks at him disdainfully, and hands Hela the address before disappearing.

“Former lover of yours?” The world snake grins. His little brother just shrugs.

“Maybe?”

“I expect both of you to be on your best behavior. His siblings will be there and may actually have loved him at some point, before he became an evil chaotic asshole.” Hela looks pointedly at Jormungadr. “And do not flirt with the grieving parties.” Fenris gets the look this time.

“Fine.” Jormungandr rolls his eyes.

“Fenrysulfr?”

“What the whole name?” He grimaces in a slightly teasing manner. “ Aside from stealing food, I will be a perfect angel.” He puts a hand to his chest.

“Good. One of them rules Heaven so the last thing we need is to start trouble.”

“Heaven? As in the People of the Book’s heaven?”

“I’m afraid so. Apparently father was really Gabrielle, otherwise known as the nightingale.” Hela informs them and goes over to her steward for some last minute orders.

“That actually explains quite a lot.” Jormungandr concedes.

“But he can’t even sing!”

Abigail gives a sigh and rests her hed on her hand as it finally starts to wrap up. Apparently she had gathered a lot of possessions in her life time. She of course left everything to her husband including her corpse for him to ‘do with as he will’. He was not amused. There were several exceptions of course that took a surprisingly long time to go through.. The things left to her norse children were read off in an audio clip of old norse. It seemed to largely consist of letters, stolen objects of the Aesir, whether stolen by herself or stolen back from others wasn’t specified. She left Fenrisulfr a box of shredded ribbon, which he seemed especially pleased with and even made his older siblings smile a little. They were also each given tape recorders with private messages.

There were messages and boxes for everyone at the table to be opened in private. Claire and Denny were also left a lot of old broken jewelry and ancient artifacts, guaranteeing them more than enough money to finance the hotel for decades even if they never had another customer again. The most valuable ones even came with the original bill of sale and documentation of being passed down through Gabrielle’s ‘family’ that establishes their firm legitimate ownership of the items making them exempt from being seized. 

The lesser ones come with instructions on how to donate them so that the tax credits provided by their donations to various museums cover the taxes they’d have to pay on the valuable ones when they sell them. There’s also a list of interested private parties and a bank account set up in the cayman islands for the sale. The box they end up getting right away is a small one filled with blessed plastic vending machine jewelry.

She left Ben the little garden in Hell where he and Abigail met for the first time. She specifically emphasizes this. She also left him everything in it and assurances that there is far more in there than when he was there the last time. She left Abigail’s father a large handwritten book that seems to be in enochian. A larger book to Helel, and officially bequeathed her blade to Mary, which is absolutely meaningless as Mary never intended to give it back anyway and no one seemed inclined to make her. Alex gets an enormous stash of tootsie rolls and Cadbury cream eggs. Denny specifically is left one of Michael’s used t-shirts. Michael is told not to be greedy and not left anything. 

Finally she left Abigail a large chest of rare spell components properly prepared and preserved, for those that have to be and seeds for those that need to be used fresh. It’s definitely not anything she’ll just be using without massive testing before hand. Honestly she has no need for it whatso-ever now, so she’ll just give it to the their Raphael. But she finds that half the chest is taken up by small, soft, cylindrical paper packages with her name on them. An even smaller card reads ‘to complete your collection’ 

She gives a wry smile immediately realizing what they are. Maybe she’ll keep those. It was bad enough when she stopped growing at fifteen and hadn’t grown very much by then, but finding or buying lingerie in her size is a nightmare. At least until she looked in countries where women are smaller in average than in the united states. Often asian and latin american countries had a better selection. That or hiring a seamstress to make them for her personally. But both are kind of a hassle.

Finally it’s over. She gives a sigh of relief and looks over to Ben who hasn’t let go of her hand yet.

“Would you like me to stay here with you, or would you like us to go home?” She asks gently.

“I’m not sure yet.” He replies, looking down at their hands. “I certainly don’t want to stay here and wait to be scolded by my parents. But I don’t think I’d be much good to you at the moment.”

“Whatever you want to do, I’ll support you.” She reassures him.

“I suppose we should be part of the conversation about my aunt tonight. I wish I could get a little rest first.” Ben confesses. He does seem a little emotionally exhausted.

“That’s easy enough. We’ll just go to see your inheritance and you can rest as long as you need to. Do you need Jeb? Or Shelly? Or just me?”

“All three?” He timidly asks.

“I’ll go get Michelle and Jeb and we’ll meet you down there with comfort food and fuzzy blankets.” Abigail stands up and kisses his cheek. “It will all be alright.” Ben wraps his arms around her and just holds onto her for a minute. Helel gives Abigail a dark look the entire time. She just gives her the fig behind Ben’s back. Only Mary and the lawyer don’t recognize it for what it is.

“Well, this is a piece of shit.” Riley wrinkles her nose at the empty construction site.

“This is going to be a part of the newly purposed Hell.” Her demon explains. “It won’t be unusual for demons to be gathered here, though a lot of us will have to work while you train. But hiding you should be easy once you start getting experience. For now we’ll settle for training while she’s not here. There’s generally a very large gap between when she’s working and when she isn’t. You will be in training for days at a time so be prepared to work very hard.”

“If that’s so I want access to a skating rink so I can at the least maintain my skill level. It would be strange if I didn’t.”

“As you will.” Her demon bows.

“Do you have the book I requested?” Riley asks looking around.

“Yes. And several others that your instructors want to to read and write reports on, once a training week, then deliver the reports to them orally.” He goes to pick up a small crate.

“Wait, what?” Riley blinks as he hands it to her. “Seriously?”

“It takes mental acuity as well as physical strength to lead an army, much less a kingdom.” The demon wisely states, his child vessel makes it not a little irritating.

“I’m not leading an army.” Riley protests. “I’m preparing for murder. Well, capture.” She corrects herself.

“You can’t do it alone and right now you only have demons on your side. With demons you have to lead, follow or die. When Abigail is overthrown, there will be war in Hell, make no doubt about that. You need an army and you need them to follow you. So you need the ability to lead them.”

“I’m not a leader.” Riley argues, putting the books down. “I bend or break rules. I definitely don’t make them, much less enforce them.”

“Your relationship with your twin proves otherwise.” The demon corrects her.

“Excuse me?” She puts her hands on her hips, looking somewhat offended. “Chris and I are partners. Ying and yang, two halves of a whole.”

“I’m not saying that’s not true, but leader and follower are also two sides of the same coin. Are you really saying you’re a follower?”

“No, but neither is he.” She insists. “There’s no leader and follower. No one is in charge. We are equal partners all the way.”

“Are you, though?” The demon makes a face. “ Who’s idea was it to keep your genders secret? Who’s idea was celibacy to protect that secret? Who makes the final decisions on your costumes and routines? What you eat? Your recreational activities? When you fight, who apologizes first? Which of you punishes the other in some way when you disagree over something?” He asks, each question hitting home more than she wants to admit. “Chris follows your lead over and over again. You’re usually a kind and benevolent leader, but you are the leader none the less.”

“Just because he happens to agree with me all the time doesn’t mean he’s following me. And I don’t punish him for disagreeing with me. I get upset sometimes sure, but aren’t I allowed to get upset when the people I care for are headed for nothing but pain and heartache? Did I force him to do what I wanted in regards to Abigail? No. I let him keep talking to her. I even let him go visit her! I even let him feel whatever he wanted to about our father’s death. If he prefers to believe it was a heroic sacrifice and not just suicide by demon, that’s fine. He doesn’t deserve to feel unloved by anyone.” Riley defends herself, though personally letting him continue his infatuation with Abigail was a big mistake. She was sure he’d see the truth eventually, but he didn’t.

“You ‘let’ him do these things?” The demon pointedly asks. Riley’s cheeks turn red and she crosses her arms tightly across her chest. 

“You know what I mean!” She scowls.

“Riley, you act as if I’m accusing you of something bad. It’s not. Those who follow crave leadership. People need a strong hand to guide them. The fact that Chris is one of them is no slight to him. He is a wonderful follower. His support and aid to you, how he takes care of you as much as you take care of him, he is indeed the other half you think him to be. Just not in terms of executive power. Followers like Chris are as vital to the running of anything as a good competent leader. Any leader worth their salt knows that. They cannot succeed in life without each other, much less rise to the heights they’re both capable of. Without each other neither is complete.” This seems to mollify her for the perceived slight to her sibling.

“Maybe?” She scrunches her nose in the same adorable manner her father did.

“Why would you be surprised by this? You’re as much your mother and father’s child as Chris is.”

“Yes, well. I only inherited their flaws, so that doesn’t exactly make me leadership material.” Riley sits down heavily on the book crate, a petulant pout not quite on her lips, but close enough to see.

“Their flaws!” It’s her demons turn to be offended now. “No, you inherited their strength! Both of them were made specifically to be leaders, you father to rule God’s kingdom, your mother to command God’s army. You have the will, the drive and the innate skill to be either of these, or both. Why do you insist on condemning yourself for strengths you were never properly taught to use?” he reaches out and puts his little hand on her cheek. “Why do you insist on rejecting your birthrights? All of them.”

“Hell is not my birthright And all I care about is keeping Chris safe.” She sets her jaw.

“So this is the limit of your love, then.” The statement makes her determined expression turn to one warning of severe violence should he not correct himself immediately. “You’re willing to kill for him, to die for him, yes, but not to live for him.”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean. I do live for him. He’s everything important in the world to me!”

“But you’d leave him vulnerable and a target. Abigail is the biggest threat to his life and soul, but she’s not the only one. He’s also a child of Lucifer. He’ll be viewed as either a threat or salvation, unless another equally valid heir to Hell’s throne takes up the mantle instead. Sure you might think he’d resist, but any of us could offer him what your family refuses to give. How much suffering and pain and frustration do you think it will take before he starts to consider it?” He explains. “If you were Queen of Hell no one would dare approach him. Either to court him or kill him. Especially after overthrowing Queen Abigail. Your love for each other is absolute, even legendary. No one smart enough to be an actual threat would be stupid enough to risk it.”

“I’m not so sure about that. You’d think my mother’s wrath would be deterrent enough for anyone, but it wasn’t.” Riley raises an eyebrow at him.

“Your mother would merely give them a quick if painful death. You, however I can see learning to make their existence as painful as possible as they’d justly deserve. And you’d have the strength to carry out true justice, without regard for it’s personal cost to you.” He points out. “Because you know what everyone here truly deserves and it’s not compassion and hope. You definitely know what anyone who attempts to lay their hands on either of Lucifer’s children deserves.” Riley doesn’t say anything. But she’s clearly paying very close attention to what he’s saying. “Think about what I’ve said. I know you’ll see the truth in it.”


	39. The Meeting of the Parole Board

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shelly takes care of her baby brother, and attempts to rekindle her relationship with Abigail  
> Everyone meets at Ben's house to discuss Bree's ressurrection.

Chapter 39 The Meeting of the Parole Board

Oddly enough, Abigail finds Shelly with Jeb. They’re eating ice cream, watching and arguing over the merits of the Nightmare Before Christmas and A Miracle On 34th Street.

“Yes, but the nightmare before Christmas ends up teaching a much more valuable lesson in regards to the meaning of Christmas. Several lessons actually.” Shelly argues.

“More important than believing in the spirit of christmas and that your faith will be rewarded?” Jeb crosses his arms.

“Oh, hell yes. The first lesson is that good intentions are not always enough. Secondly it teaches children what cultural appropriation is, and why it’s bad even if you mean well. The last is that the spirit of Christmas is not believing in an old magic man who leaves you presents, it’s love. Because the hole in Jack filled by Christmas town was finally truly filled by love, love from Sally, love from his subjects, and love for them. It was also love and acceptance of himself, embracing who he was, his talents and respecting and appreciating the talents of others. It’s also the acceptance that others will be better arat some things and that he’s not lesser for it, though that one’s more subtle. “

“What fucking movie were you watching?” Jeb gives her an odd look.

“You keep thinking because cartoons are often aimed at children, that the’re shallow and meaningless and have no real value in either moral or intellectual instruction and development.” Shelly explains. “We’re soused to education being serious and unenjoyable that we think that’s how it has to be. And it’s not.” When she finishes Jeb is just gaping at her. “Yeah I’m smart. Weird isn’t it?” She winks at him.

“Pardon my interruption, but Ben needs his loved ones right now. He’s in the garden down in hell. I’ll take you there, Jeb.” Abigail sends him there, but is surprised when Shelly doesn’t go with him or her either. “Excuse me, Michelle, but what do you think you are doing?” In response Shelly bounces over, picks her up and hugs her very tightly. Abigail just sighs and tolerates it. “Why are you doing this?” She asks when it goes on a little too long.

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For not being there for you. For not putting more work into maintaining our relationships. For letting you push me away. When Uncle Helel died. And again when Jamal died. I didn’t take care of you like I should have. I didn’t… I should have made myself someone you could come to at the very least.” Shelly squeezes her tighter. “I’m sorry. But I’m here for you now, and I always will be.”

“Michelle you have nothing to apologize for.” Abigail informs her not bothering to hide her annoyance. “Quite frankly I prefer it this way.” It’s not the whole truth, but it is the current truth. She actually, foolishly, used to be oddly jealous of Alice and Bruce. Once Shelly was no longer bothering and checking in on her all the time she kind of missed it. She could easily have gone to visit her and did sometimes. But the less care Bruce needed. The less she could pretend that she was really there to see Shelly. And she refused to admit that.

That was absolute nonsense of course. Shelly is loud chaotic, disruptive, distracting and annoying. Not having her around made things much easier, and much less frustrating. As usual, though. Shelly doesn’t take her seriously. She just gives her little cousin a squeeze.

“Can we go back to Ben now?”

“Of course.” Shelly takes them to the garden and finally puts Abigail down. “Alright, Snuggle Time!” She snaps up a giant bean bag big enough to hold seven people. It’s bright blue of course. “C’mere Ben.” She plops down in the center, crossing her legs and pats her lap. Ben just raises an eyebrow. “Okay, I’ll take care of this.” She snaps again putting Ben in her lap and wraps her arms around his shoulder. “Jebediah Tulle, to my left. Abby-gale to me right and snuggle.”

“I don’t think he’ll be comfortable with that.” Jeb frowns.

“Just keep your hands above his ribs and he’ll be fine”Abigail awkwardly manages to get herself in place and snuggle up to Ben’s arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Jeb just crawls up and lays right next to Ben, arm to arm, but trying not to crowd him.

“You okay?” He asks looking over at his friend.

“Mostly.”

“You’re safe here, Ben.” Shelly kisses the top of his head. “Why don’t we watch a movie? Relax a little bit.”

“Okay.” Ben nods. “Let me know if you get too hot.”he looks up to her as best he can.

“I’ll be fine” Shelly squeezes him. “Shall I set up a movie theater style screen and 

surround sound?”

“Oh, Hell Yes!” Jeb exclaims. Ben just smiles at his friend’s enthusiasm and nods.

“Alright. We’re doing a disney medley! Tangled! Frozen! All Ten Star Wars Movies!”

“Star wars isn’t Disney.” Abigail corrects her.

“It is in this universe.” Shelly grins.

“That’s right. Leia is officially a Disney Princess. Jeb informs her proudly, as if he had something to do with it.

“The best one yet!” Shelly agrees with him which Ben finds incredibly weird. “And then finally, if we’re up to it, the entire MCU! Also owned by Disney now, at least at home so it counts. Sound good Ben?” He just shrugs. So she starts the marathon.

Ben of course quietly cries through most of Tangled, Shelly joined him during Frozen and falls asleep during The Last Jedi. Jeb zonked out during Rogue One. Shelly pauses the movies and goes to talk about Abigail who quickly pretends to fall asleep.

“Nice try, Kiddo.” Shelly nudges her with her arm. “You’re not snoring.”

“I don’t snore!” Abigail indignantly replies.

“Not like lumber jack snoring more like purring cat noises, but yes you do.” Shelly corrects her. “C’mon talk to me.”

“Why?” Abigail sighs.

“I want to know what’s going on with you lately. And I want to talk to you about your relationship with Ben.” Shelly is quieter than Abigail is used to. Still not quiet, but almost there.

“What about it?”

“Well, I think you might not be thinking too clearly. Either of you. You know that I approve, of course, and ship the bejeezus out of you two.” Shelly reassures her, as if Abigail actually needs or cares about her approval. “But things seem to be moving kind of fast. Especially for you, you’re not the type to either rush into anything or be okay with the idea of rushing into anything. I know you think you’re fine, and nothings wrong and everythings the same as usual, but your mother just died, Abby. On some level you’re in pain. Even if you shove it deep down.”

“Michelle, I’m okay. I just see Ben for what he is and I want him in my life. That’s all. He’s everything I need him to be.” Abigail states firmly.

“Abigail, he’s an infatuated puppy, who’s been pining over you for years. Not to mention you’re his first lover, that can make some people sappy little simplings with rose colored glasses for months. You’re not really seeing all of him yet and neither is he able to see all of who you are. Now’s not the time to be getting engaged, especially since you’ll freak out as soon as your head gets back in the right place again.”

“My head is fine.”

“No, none of you is. Even if you shove your pain and sorrow and grief deep down inside you, it’s going to hurt you and affect you and I know you have so much buried already. You’re a stubborn girl who does not let go of things easily, even her pain. You’re not really seeing all of him yet and neither is he able to see all of you. If you two can’t handle the idea of seeing anything different than what you do right now, then you are not going to be able to make things work.” Shelly gives surprisingly sensible advice that would have possibly applied if it were given well before the separation of her body and soul, but it’s pointless now.

“I understand that. But I am very well aware of his flaws. I just think his virtues are well 

worth putting up with them for. Trust me, I am very well aware of what is or is not good for me.”

“Ehh, no you’re not.” Shely wrinkles her nose 

“Excuse me?” Abigail almost sits up.

“Jamal was not right for you at all, Abigail.” Shelly confesses. “I’m not saying he wasn’t a wonderful boy. Don’t get me wrong, but he wasn’t right for you. He loved you and he was good to you, and he would have made a good husband for almost anyone, but you’re not just anyone. You’re the daughter of angels, clever, talented, majestic and with a potential for greatness which you are rapidly achieving. But marrying Jamal and living the life he wanted to live, which you absolutely would have, would have stifled you. You would have never been satisfied being a civilian. I kept waiting for you to realize that, but you never did.”

“I’m sure I would have.”

“Maybe but not until you threw half your life away. Then you’d have broken each other’s hearts, and possible your children’s.” It’s somehow more grating to hear actually sensible, insightful advice coming from her cousin than nonsense and Abigail is not entirely sure why. She just tries to change the subject instead.

“I am not having children, Michelle. I have never wanted them. They’re too much of a distraction.” Though she might possibly agree to one, eventually to keep Ben occupied, adopted of course.

“I think that may be a very big issue with Ben, Abby-girl. He loves children.” Shelly cautions her. 

“I don’t have anything against children, Shelly, there’s just not going to be room for me to adequately take care of them in the life I’ve chosen. I love dogs, but I can’t care for one properly in this situation either. I’m not having a child just to neglect them for work.” Shelly just completely ignores the dig.

“And Ben might feel it’s worth giving up everything in his thread to be with you for life right now, but he has friends and family over there, More than just Jeb and he needs them and needs to work on his relationship with them instead of running away. You can’t be his everything, you know.”

“Thank god for that. He can do what he likes, go where he likes as long as he likes. Being in love and married doesn’t mean we have to be together every second. Aside from that the person who needs to put the work in to their relationship is his mother. Don’t project your marital issues onto me.” Abigail turns away from her. That hurts a little, but Shelly just pushes it aside.

“I care about you, cuz, and I worry too.” She reaches over to brush a strand of Abigail’s hair behind her ear.

“Then do what you’ve been doing and keep it to yourself. Or at least don’t bother me with it.” Abigail knocks Shelly’s hand away.

“Okay.” Shelly gives a sigh. “Do you need help falling asleep? You should be exhausted by now.”

“I’m not tired. You aren’t.”

“I don’t need to sleep anymore. At least not much. The closer I get to twenty five, the less I need. You have a little over four years to go and you’re human. But you have a little over four years. Who knows, if you get enough sleep, maybe you’ll grow a few more inches.” Shelly teases.

“I’m not holding my breath. Go to sleep anyway, maybe you’ll grow a few more inches.”

“Oh lolo, please no. I’m already six feet tall and a hundred and eighty pounds. I’ll start to look weird soon.” Shelly makes a face. Abigail does not comment. It’s unlikely Shelly could look weird given her proportions are perfect just like her father’s. But the last thing she feels like doing is give that waste of power any compliments.

“Maybe you actually have Acromegaly and won’t stop growing at all.”

“Okay that’s not funny.”

“Yes it is.”

“My mother would find it funny.” Shelly corrects herself.

“Jesus, there’s no need to be mean.”

Ben is well rested by the time they return to his house He asked Ben and Shelly not to come and said he’d be alright with just Abigail. No one seemed overly upset when they came back a little a later than they planned. The entire MCU may have been a bit much, but it made Ben feel alot better and let him vent his emotions. He is of course a Loki fanboy, but Captain America wasn’t much of a surprise either.

Helel does not seem at all pleased to see Abigail again but she holds her tongue for Ben and the other Raphael’s sake. It’s interesting that they’re doing this in the living room, especially as Abigail’s father had to bring up several more chairs and get rid of the side table and book shelves. The living room was not set up for fourteen people.

“Is dad back yet?” Ben asks.

“No, he can’t make it back yet. But he agreed it’s up to you Raphael. We would all like to have our say,though.” Helel reaches over to put her hand on her son’s. She of course positioned herself in between Ben and Michael, graciously allowing Abigail to sit next to her fiancee. He silently nods. 

“Why can’t he make it back at least for this? You’d think he’d at least be here for you and Ben.” Abigail asks.

“He’s on a mission against the Barachiels.” Ben explains. “That’s much more important right now.”

“I see.”

“He’s already agreed to support Raphael’s decision in the matter.”

“I can’t believe you’re even considering bringing him back!’ Jormangander slams his fist down on the back of Hela’s chair. “That… that creature is as big a monster an any you’ve ever even heard of. Bigger! He is literally your pantheon’s living embodiment of Evil. And you want to bring her back to life? What the fuck is wrong with you people?! And what should HE get to decide?” He points accusingly to their Raphael. 

“Because he’s her husband and has been since well before you tulpas even existed.” Helel explains. Hela clears her throat before Jormangandr can reply to the insult.

“Bredlamme! Are you okay?” Fenris looks over to him, from where he’s lying backwards on the lounge portion of the sofa. There’s genuine concern in his eyes.

“I’ll survive.”

“He’s the only reason there was any love and goodness left in her” Michael looks down at the table. Without him it would have been much worse. And our father has left her reformation in his hands now that the corruption infecting her has been removed. Or at least is no longer being added to. She’s been fighting very hard to get rid of it and has made so much progress. She’s been making progress. She sacrificed herself to save me and my wife.”  
“That’s not much of a sacrifice if she knew you’d just resurrect her.” Jormungandr snorts.

“She hates us more than she ever hated anything in her life. She’s hated me since before she fell, and I deserved it. I was too hard on her and made her feel like nothing when she had only become that way because of the tremendous sacrifice she made at the beginning of time. I handled everything wrong and blamed and hated her for things she wasn’t responsible for. I was a poor excuse for an older sister and she has every right to hate me. But she saved me anyways.”

“From who?” Jormungandr demands. \

“I have to say I’m curious as well. I can’t see you two needing to be rescued from anyone. You are both practically legendary.” Hela adds

“The King and Queen of the fairies.” Raphael says quietly. The norse trio look as shocked as the other Raphael was when told she rescued Michael and Mary.

“That… is a sacrifice.” Hela says slowly. Fenris nods enthusiastically, in such a doggy way it makes Alex smile. Jormungandr shows his assent by not saying anything. “If you do decide to resurrect him, I would wait a few thousand year or make sure everything she owns and wears has been augmented with iron in some way.” She suggests slowly.

“I’ll take that into consideration.” Raphael nods.

“They seemed more surprised than upset.” Michael weighs in. “They want to see her again if we resurrect her so I don’t think there are any hard feelings.” His little brother just raises an eyebrow at him, while Hela shakes her head with a sighs. Her little brothers just roll their eyes. 

“She has been working extremely hard at becoming a better person. In large part for you, Raphael.” Alex speaks up looking over at him. “She’s been celibate since you left. Because, and, I quote ‘If I can do it while human horny and not getting any at all, I can definitely manage monogamy when he comes back.’ She complained about it constantly.” Both Raphael and Bree’s children look at her as if she’s said the sky was raining purple edible bird poop, only they’d have believed Bree capable of doing that.

“Wait, what do you mean, human?” Jormungandr says suddenly.

“We removed her grace so she couldn’t cause too much trouble and put her on probation.” Abigail’s father explains.

“That… why the hell couldn’t you have done that before!!”

“We weren’t able to catch her. She’s the fastest and the best at hiding.”

“Plus she needed to have her grace in order to handle holding back the darkness.” Raphael pointed out. “That was no longer an issue twenty one years ago.”

“He’s been human and helpless for twenty fucking years.” Jormungandr muses.

“Neither helpless or unprotected.” Their Raphael says coldly. 

“That’s very true.” Michael gives him a threatening look.

“Hell, if you can do that again, I have absolutely no problem with you bringing him back.” He shrugs.

“Bree was going on hunts with Michael and Mary alot and actually being helpful. She’s also been doing charity work, cleaning up sidewalks and public places. She’s kept the dog park across the street very clean, she even volunteered as a candy striper in the children’s ward. I can’t say she hasn’t been a little shit, but it’s largely karmic in nature. Like people who are rude to waiters and try to bully people. Nothing lethal or causing injury, either. Plus she found a cure to vampirism that works even when a person’s been turned by the blood of several vampires. It takes seven very difficult years, but it works.” Harahel who’s sitting next to her, holding her hand, gets a little twitch in his cheek at this. “She’s determined to become someone worthy of you and your love, just in case you ever came back.”

“I’ve managed to reduce the process of seven minutes. It’s very painful but it has a ninety two percent success rate. Tris also had decided at one point that if drinking vampire blood to turn wasn’t enough to keep you from being turned back, that drinking vampire blood wouldn’t either. That seems to be true as she was successfully turned back to human a little before my mother died. I think on the same day.” Abigail mentions. “I’ll send all of you the process.”

“A ninety two percent rate.” Her father repeats.

“I hardly think that trying to make a good impression on her parole officers counts as actual reform.” Abigail points out. “And you’ll need to give her back her grace in order to resurrect her.”

“True. She’s bad enough to deal with as a human. I don’t think giving her back her powers would decrease the amount of trouble she’ll cause. I can see that being the reason she did it though.” Mary considers.

“Not something like that.” Hela shakes her head. 

“Yeah, he’s a coward with too much of an instinct for self preservation for that. Dying, maybe if things were desperate, but screwing over the fae court at the highest level? Absolutely not.” Jormungandr leans back in his seat.

“You don’t have to let her keep her grace. It was no trouble keeping ours immobilized long enough to take it away when we resurrected him.” Abigail’s father informs them.

“Aren’t we forgetting something very important?” The sheriff, who’s existence Abigail had been able to entirely overlook, speaks up. “Like the people that bitch has done terrible horrible things to that are still suffering from even now? Sorry, Ben. I know she was wonderful to you and you loved each other very much, but what about your father? What about mom?”

“And what about us?” Jormungandr grumbles.

“Speak for yourself. I’m fine.” Fenrys looks over towards Alex, gives her some puppy eyes and a pleading pout and looks down to her purse. She grins and leans over to take out a handful of tootsie rolls that she leans over to give him. He enthusiastically accepts and quickly unwraps one popping it in his mouth.

“You’re a spoiled brat and she was only so good to you because she loved dogs and you turned into a wolf and played puppy any time she was mad at you.” Jormungandr scolds. 

His little brother ignores him and takes the roll out of his mouth. It is in fact not a piece of candy but a rolled and folded dollar bill. He quickly opens the rest and they’re all various denominations of Bills. He looks outright heart broken and hands the money back over to Alex. She takes a creme egg out of her purse and opens the foil a little to reveal actual chocolate inside it, so she hands it over to him. He rips the foil off and pops the whole thing into his mouth again.

“You are a pathetic man child. All you do is eat and play. All the damn time. Begging for food at a time like this. This is why they call you the wolf who eats the world, Rhys.” he continues.

Rhys just lets out a very heartbreaking pained sort of whimper and puts his hand to his cheek, half curling in on himself. Tears spring to his eyes as he spits out what looks like a golden egg, half covered in milk chocolate with teeth marks in it. Claire laughs out loud at this.

“I am so sorry.” Alex apologizes and hands him some napkin. 

“I’ll take care of your tooth. “Harahel gets up and and taps his forehead healing the broken teeth. Fenris licks the chocolate off what is indeed an egg of solid gold , wipes it with a napkin and hands it back to Alex.

“Thanks, cuties.” He nods to them. “Hey, after this, think you two might want to…”

“NO.” Abigail states loudly and firmly. “They absolutely do not. And neither do you.” The last sentence is a clear threat and not just because of the narrowed eyes. Since Hela is giving him the same look, Fenris just sighs and rests his head on his hand.

“Don’t forget about Claire,” Denny turns back the conversation after giving the wolf that eats the world a rather flirty wink and smile that cheers him up considerably. “She did kidnap her and keep her prisoner in hell since she was like eight.” Denny points out.

“I have to admit, I’ve enjoyed being stronger than her, but my time with her wasn’t as bad as it could have been. She just used me to play dress up with and taught me things I knew better than to use, for the most part. I know Raphael is what kept it so harmless for the most part. He took care of me like I was his own daughter and taught me everything I needed to know and more. But I honestly don’t know how I feel. I might actually miss her, I think. Which feels really strange. She has been trying very hard to do good things and attempted to make things up to me, but The Sheriff is right, what she did to Mary and her son was absolutely unforgivable and even knowing her of her continued existence as part of their family no less, has to be stressful as hell. And seeing her? Especially happy and seemingly carefree, at worst dealing with every day struggles as a human,That’s gotta be pure torture.”

“I can deal with it.” Mary says, “I’d rather know where she is and what she’s up to and make sure she doesn’t do anything too chaotic and destructive. I have to say I’ve more than enjoyed beating the mischief out of her, but all my little Sam-a-lam has ever wanted in regards to her is to forget about her and never see or speak to her again.” 

“Sam-a-lam?”Jormungadr snorts.

“What was that Snick-snake?” Hela asks cooly.

“You heard me, Death Child.”

“He just called me Rys, good little boy, and my puppy.” Rhys shrugs. “Nothing too embarrassing.”

“The face you aren’t embarrassed by that is embarrassing enough.”

“Yeah, that sounds like her.” Claire chuckles, getting Hela’s attention.

“Michael?” The other Raphael turns to him. “How do you feel?”

“I want her back. I have a lot to make up for and I’m more than willing to take 

responsibility for her again. I have been keeping her away from Samuel. But I don’t want Mary to take on more than she should. If waiting would ease her burden, I’ll manage. The same for you and yours, paseh. Your needs are important too and you’ve done this for so long. Whatever you end up deciding I’ll support you.”

“Ben?” his uncle turns to him next.

“What ever you decide is fine.”

“I’m asking you what you want, Ben. Not what you’ll agree to.” he gently prods him.

“I want… I love her and I’ll miss her so much but I don’t want dad to keep hurting. I should have thought about that way before now. Even if he insisted he was fine.… All I really know is that I want her to be at my wedding more than anything. If it weren’t for her I don’t think I’d have even gotten to speak to Abigail again.” He says quietly.

“We can always wait to get married. For however long it takes.” Abigail reassures him. “I am effectively immortal now, as are you.” She points out, holding onto his arm.. “You know you’ll always be able to see her again. So long as you don’t do anything stupid again and get yourself killed.” Helel refuses to agree out loud, though literally every member of her family knows she feels the same way. Ben nods.

“I understand.” His uncle reassures him. “Helel, how do you feel? Really feel about bringing her back?”

“I’m afraid I’m just as conflicted as Ben.” She confesses. “ I love her, I want her to be the angel she used to be or at least the angel I know she can be. But I’m not ready to really help her the way she might need from me. Having my favorite siblings both try to kill me is not something I”ve been able to get past as much as I wish I could. I do think about my Mule and his feelings, quite a lot. But we both agreed that with how good and loving she is with Ben that it wouldn’t be fair to cut her out of his life, when at the very least he should know her and what she’s trying to be now. Obviously she was never unsupervised, you made sure of that, which I appreciated so much more than I was willing to let you know.” She nods to Raphael,

“At least until he was old enough for me to trust him not to be negatively influenced by her. I love my little sister, but I don’t think I can be of any more use to her than I have been. And I think maybe, Now that Ben’s an adult, that I’d like to put Samuel first for a while. But above all, I want you to do what you need. You’ve been through so much and we’ve all used you badly, me more than anyone. This time you and your needs come first. I want you to do what’s right for you more than anything. It may not really be fair to anyone, but that’s what I want.” Helel looks down, a few solid tears rolling down her cheek before she can stop it. Ben of course, leans over to hug her, letting his mother bury her head in his shoulder. Abigail’s father puts an arm around The other Raphael’s shoulder for support as he just takes it all in.

“I need time to think about all of this.” He says quietly. 

“Take all the time you need.” Michael reassures him. 

“And be as thorough about thinking as you can possibly be.” Jormungandr pleads.

“Please.” Mary agrees. “I mean it’s not as if she’s going anywhere.” Her husband shoots her an unhappy look at this. She just shrugs and looks away. Abigail looks over at Ben and his mother. She definitely needs comforting and Ben will need comforting from someone who does not outright hate his aunt like she does. Plus it’s getting a little stifling. It would be nice to get rid of him for a while.

“Ben,” She quietly touches his shoulder. He breaks away enough to look back at her. “Why don’t you stay with your mother for a while.” Her suggestion surprises Helel as much as she thought it would. Another battle for Ben won, this time without a single shot or even his mothers awareness the conflict had already started. “I’ll take care of Chris. And I promise not to kill Riley.” She reassures him, doubling the seed of guilt and obligation at least enough to make him want to come back sooner than he would. “And,” She adds before he can say anything. “I have my father, Auntie Miqa and Shelly if I need them. You and your mother need each other right now. I understand.” She kisses his temple. “Harahel.” She addresses Ben’s angel in enochian. “I would confess your feelings before someone beats you to her affections.” She looks over to Fenris. “Trust me on this.” Her father gives a reluctant nod.

“Is it that obvious?” Harahel blushes, responding in kind.

“Oh yeah.” Ben grins and nods. 

“Painfully.” Claire adds. Harahel looks away when Alex looks up at him, a little confused.

“I’m going home. I have work to do.” Abigail lets him sit up to kiss her goodbye. “I love you.” She manages convincingly.

“I love you too.” He gives her another kiss that she keeps up just long enough to piss off his mother before she leaves.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	40. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riley tries to get help to convince her brother to see her again.  
> Abigail get another gift from Bree, the best and worst one she's ever been given  
> Riley is kind to Jeff again and acquires another teacher.

Ch 40 Riley’s Best Efforts 

When Abigail gets home she looks at the packages of lingerie. They are fantastic and colorful. Most of them still have tags on them. There’s an envelope between the last two packages. It simply says ‘trust me you’ll be kicking yourself if you don’t read this immediately,’ on it. Curious as to what it could be, Abigail opens it, aimed away from her of course. But there’s no sign of curses and tampering. There are no indication of glitter either, but she’s not taking any chances even for a minor annoyance from a dead woman.

‘Mini Raphi, I’m sorry for what I did to you and your mother. I was a selfish jealous brat. I’m still a selfish jealous brat, but I’ve been working on it, and this time I didn’t take anything away from you that you wouldn’t have lost if I hadn’t. In fact you probably wouldn’t have had it back this quick if I hadn’t. I’ve been working up to giving it back to you anyways. I just wasn’t ready yet.

I’m bequeathing my cellphone to you, including my very valuable cell phone case. Especially the super important glass marble-ish centerpiece. I don’t have time to write more, its to do in a short time, but you’re a smart one, you’ll figure it out. 

Good luck with Ben’s mother.

Your future Auntie in law, Bree.’

That’s incredibly bizarre and while she’s not sure what the crazy woman is talking about, Abigail can’t help but feel incredibly suspicious. She reads it over again but it still doesn’t make any more sense, so she puts it back in the envelope and heads over to the nightstand on Ben’s side of the bed where he put it in the drawer. It’s the same tacky bedazzled nightmare she first saw. She knew immediately who it belonged to, and while it was odd Ben had it, it was very tempting to ‘accidentally’ damage it. That might have caused problems, though. So she just put it in the drawer. Out of sight out of mind.

On the back of it she can see the centerpiece in question. It’s certainly marble-ish. Flat and oval with a small puffy silver glittery star sticker on top of it. When she looks more closely on it, her face falls. It’s the same exact stone Abigail crafted to hold her soul in. The only difference is the color. And of course the sticker. A star. A goddamn star.

There’s a ring at the doorbell, which is surprising. Nobody she knows knocks and both police and delivery people announce themselves as well as knocking. Not that there have been any police here. This apartment complex is too high class for the kind of intrusions she might expect from the police in a traditionally black neighborhood. And she’s been very careful not to commit any crimes. 

She puts the stone in her bra, since she doesn’t have any pockets, and looks out the peephole. It’s Riley. Abigail considers just disappearing but she does not intend to leave her home because of that little brat, even if it is just to avoid some unpleasantness. She’ll just make sure Riley learns not to bother her at home.

“Go away.” Abigail commands upon opening the door. 

“I’m sorry.” Which is of course utter bullshit. Riley hasn’t apologized to anyone outside her immediate family for anything since her father died. And even then it’s a fight. “ About your mother’s funeral. I acted inappropriately and disrespectfully, and I had no right to. And maybe..” Abigail can see the painful struggle in Riley’s face, like she’s chewing nails. “Maybe.” Riley scrunches up her nose. “Maybe Jamal did… just… kill himself.” Abigail’s fairly impressed that she even manages to get the sentence out, though she can’t possibly expect anyone to believe the absolute crap she’s spewing. Not with that attitude or expression, much less the absolute murderous rage in Riley’s eyes.

“Let me guess,” Abigail puts her free hand to her hips, as she leans on the door. “You want me to go talk to Chris to try and get him to let you back into his hospital room.” Riley’s averted eyes and petulant scowl says it all. Although she does eventually nod when Abigail doesn’t reply. “I don’t see the point in convincing him to let you back in just for you to explode and be an ass and get kicked out all over again.”

“I’m working on it.” Riley keeps her voice even, though still clearly struggling. “Besides I figured if I could come do this, then I can handle Chris saying things that upset me.” She explains still not looking at Abigail.

“I can see your point. But it’s not enough. You’re clearly a lying seething little ball of hypocrisy with a stifling air of pure rage. Come back when you can bow at my feet and beg my forgiveness, telling me what an unreasonable covetous little piece of shit you’ve been from the very start of my relationship with Jamal. And do it without letting your desire to tear me to shreds show through. Then, maybe I’ll talk to Chris at my convenience. If you’ll excuse me. I have things to do.” Abigail slams the door in her face. Well, that should get rid of her for a few months.

Sure enough, Riley leaves as evidenced by the enochian cursing and insults fading into the distance as she heads back to the elevator.

It’s quick and easy for Abigail to prepare a nice warm bath at the perfect temperature with bubbles, the perfect fragrant oils, and flickering candles set securely on the edge of the large oval tub and other surfaces in the bathroom. It’s so soothing and relaxing. It even takes away the headache that invariably comes when dealing with Riley. She closes her eyes and meditates in the water, her head resting on the bath pillow inset with full length armrests and netting to float on. When she’s reaches a calm physically relaxed equilibrium again, she opens her eyes and reaches over to the fuzzy toilet seat past the curtains for the jewel.

It’s clearly where her uncle is, whatever of him is left without his grace and body. That monster actually fucking stole him. She kept him from being lost to death completely, but then she kept him for herself. Riley would have been so much less trouble if she’d just given him back. Her uncle probably could have kept him fromBut the main question is what does she want to do with it. All she has to do it place it under his tongue and it’ll rejoin his essence with his body and return him to life. At least so long as the body’s in perfect condition. Unfortunately that’s the absolute last thing she needs right now.

Would he take Riley in hand? Probably. Would it be worth the added hassle of hell thinking of Lucifer as a contender again? Hell no. Besides even if no one else ever notices she no longer has her soul attached to her body, he absolutely would. She does not need to deal with any of that right now. It’s not as if she has to make a decision immediately. She’ll absolutely have to examine the issue from all sides with all possible complications if she does. Until then she’ll just turn the stone into a pendant or something and wear it around her neck. A silver veneer should conceal it nicely. Leaving only the puffy sticker or something. Maybe some detailed carvings around it. If she turned it into a locket with her mother and uncle’s pictures in it, no one would think it too odd. But she definitely, absolutely cannot let the thing out of her sight for even a minute.

  
  


Jeff is asleep at his computer when Riley arrives home, exhausted and sore. She tosses a blanket over him and goes to the kitchen. There is absolutely nothing in the… no there’s a take out bag with a container of steak ribs with BBQ sauce. Twice baked potatoes and asparagus with her name on it.

“Oh fuck yes!” She takes it out and pops it in the microwave. It figures though, that the noise wakes up Jeff. 

“Mike?” He yawns.

“Nope,” She replies taking out some silverware and the organic soda from the vegetable drawer.

“Oh. Riley.” HE straightens up and stretches with a slight groan. “How are you feeling?”

“Hell if I know. Tired? Frustrated? Bone weary? Homicidal? You?”

“Stiff as hell, but I’ll be fine. I’m trying to enter some client addresses into the new database so I can send letters about my temporary vacation.”

“Letters? Not emails?”

“The more high end the business the more they appreciate personal touches like this. I’m finishing up the projects I’ve already taken on, but I won’t be taking on any more until Chris is at the very least out of the hospital, and then it’ll be limited at best.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Riley leans back against the counter.

“I want to get them done and in the post by nine for same day delivery.” He rubs his eyes. 

“No, I mean you don’t have to stop working. We all know your job is what keeps you sane.” She crosses her arms. He gives her a wry grin. “You know, you’ve already given up alot for us. Your independence. Your time, your dignity and self respect since you keep staying around me.” He doesn’t feel inclined to argue. “Not to mention your sex life.”

“Now that I have not. I just don’t do it here.” Jeff corrects her. She just raises an eyebrow at him.

“Seriously? Aren’t you too old and chubby for hookup culture?”

“You’re never too old or chubby to be a sugar daddy, just too poor.” Jeff winks making Riley actually laugh.

“Seriously? You have a sugar baby. Like some femme little twink you keep hidden in a high end apartment somewhere?”

“If I could afford a high end apartment…. No. I just pay a few small bills like the utilities and buy him groceries. We pretend he doesn’t have several richer sugar daddies as well.” Jeff gets to his feet, and folds up the blanket. “He’s a stripper. His name’s Mango and he calls me his sweet Baboo.”

“Oh you asshole!” Riley laughs so hard she bends over. “I can believe you got me with that!” 

“I can’t believe I had to take it that far for you to start to believe me. How skeezy do you think I am?”

“Well you did buy an archangel at the fireman’s bachelor auction and try to seduce him.” Riley points out.

“What?! Who the… I didn’t know he was an archangel! And they didn’t say the ladies only specification. He was hot! He is hot! Knowing his true form is that of a divine flame makes so much sense it hurts.”

“I can’t take it, the thought of some creepy ass old man buying my mother’s ‘services’ at a public auction.”

“I wasn’t even thirty then! And to be fair, your father managed to win the bidding, but your mother decided to honor the second bid as well just to keep him from actually achieving his goal. I just thought it meant he was interested, but it turned out it wasn’t his thing. He didn’t beat me up over it and we decided we liked hanging out, and so we did. Which is probably weirder than the fact that he turned out to be the ultimate divine weapon,” Jeff shakes his head and puts the blanket over the back of the chair. “Your father, I think, hated me more than you did or do. He couldn’t understand why Mike needed or wanted anyone not in his immediate family. Much less some random ultra basic human that would never even compare to pretty much anyone in his immediate or extended family in any single way. I make absolutely no sense in your lives.”

“True. But what the hell does?” Riley shrugs. 

“Touche.” Jeff bends down to pick up a pen. “AH! Mother Trucker!”

“That’s a new one.” Riley raises and eyebrow and looks over at him, still bent over, a pen in his hand. “Are you stuck?”

“My back.” Jeff groans. “Ow, why? I’m too young to be this old.”

“Hold on,” Riley sighs and clears off one end of the kitchen table. “C’mon, lean on this.” She helps him slowly over to it. “I’ll help you take off your shirt. Gross.” She comments at the weird solid bubble bump like thing at the edge of his hairline on the back of his neck.

“That’s been there since birth. It’s harmless and easily hidden.”

“Well, that explains the turtle necks and shaggy hair. And the scarves. Not the ascot though. That was just plain weird.” She gets some icy hot and rubber gloves.

“I was dressed as Fred from Scooby Doo!”

“There are no excuses for ascots, and you know it.” She rolls up her sleeves and starts massaging the medication into his lower back. She slowly increases the pressure until Jeff gives a groaning sigh and relaxes a little resting his forehead on the table. 

“You are really out of shape.” She comments. “At the very least you need to start stretching every morning. Go for a walk, do some light yoga. My eighty year old coach is more spry than you. And he has arthritis. Also don’t forget to take multivitamins. Especially once you increase your activity level.”

“Riley, I am just fine.”

“Oh please, you’re old and your body is breaking down and you aren’t doing a thing about it.”

“I’ve lived a good life.”

“So I’ll check off Do Not Resuscitate on your living will then?”

“Smart ass.” He grins.

“Excuse me, Ms. Riley?” A voice makes her freeze as if she was caught doing something bad and not just helping Jeff with his back. There’s no smell of sulfur though so she relaxes a little.

“Yes?” She resumes her massage.

“I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time.” The person asks.

“Sure. Wait a sec.” She replies. “How’s your back feel? Can you straighten up?”

“Yeah,” Jeff slowly does. “Thank you.” He grabs his shirt. “That was wonderful. Mike only seems to be able to give deep tissue massages, or worse.”

“That’s probably your own fault. You haven’t told mom it’s too rough. He’s perfectly capable of being gentle and probably just think you like it that way.” She turns around to face the angel behind her. 

“Hi,” He offers his hand. “I’m Zuriel, one of your Aunt’s students. I’ve been asked to see if you wanted someone to talk to about things you don’t feel comfortable talking to your family about.”

“Technically you are my family.” She points out.

“Technically the Winchesters are your half brothers, that doesn’t make your actual 

relationship any closer.” He points out. Riley has to admit that’s true.  
“I’m going to try and get some sleep in an actual bed. Wake me if you need anything.” He pats her back.

“Same.” She rubs the back of her neck and looks back to Zuriel. “Do you mind if I eat while we talk? I’m starving.”

“Go ahead.” Zuriel sits down at the table as Riley brings her food over. “ Just to let you know, in case I have to do this at any point, putting on an earpiece while I talk to you, is just to help me focus. I’m the angel of harmony. When things aren’t right with someone or something, it gets very discordant, which bothers and distracts me a great deal. Listening to good music in one ear helps drown out the outside noise so I can focus on what you’rr saying, and not your song.”

“My song?”

“It’s one of the best ways I can describe it. Are you familiar with String theory?” Riley just 

gives him an annoyed look. “Right. String theory is the idea that reality at the basest level is made up of vibrating strings. Everything is just a different combination of vibrations. This makes up everything and your particular combinations of vibrations translates reality into everything you experience in the universe. As an angel it translates to a kind of sound I suppose. 

“Everything in the universe has it’s own sound. The simpler the organic the simpler the song. The more complex the song. Human beings as some of the most complex creatures in all of creation are like mash up of different songs that can potentially somehow work together in unexpected ways. It’s determined by your unique experiences, the things you learn and feel and do. Even the harmful things, which tend to clash with the rest of the songs.

“Most angels can just listen to it the way that humans taste things. The combination of flavors smells and textures combined into a single experience, the majority of the experience blocking out the minority of differences. With me however, I’m extra sensitive to the details of the universe’s songs, every missed note or clash of songs stands out for me like nothing else. It gets distracting and I’m often easily overwhelmed the more of it there is. Thus the music. If it’s loud enough.”

“Huh.” Riley considers. 

“I most used it as the choir director in heaven, but it does let me know when things aren’t working right. With help focusing, I can use it to see when a person is in emotional and mental distress. When their heart, mind, and soul are in conflict with each other, the sound is a little like a young child banging on a piano while music is playing accompanied by someone singing the wrong words to the wrong tune and off pitch yet somehow you know exactly what they’re trying to sing, which makes the whole thing kind of painful. The worse the cacophony the worse the person’s state is.” He explains. “You’re not as bad as I expected you to be.”

“I see.” Riley leans back in her chair and thinks for a moment. “Okay, Twilight Sparkle, what’s my mash up like?”

“Hmmm. Death Metal, Rock opera, an enormous undercurrent of tender medieval love ballads, War cries and Bohemian Rhapsody occasionally screaming over the rest of it.” Zurial concludes. Which sounds about right to Riley. Except for one thing.

“Are you sure about the love songs?” She wrinkles her nose.

“Oh yes, it’s the purest most harmonious part of your song.” Zuriel smiles. “It’s the reason I’ll be able to listen to you without headphones.”

“Okay.” Riley can’t help but blush a little, embarrassed at this, and rubs the back of her neck.

“Your father was the best at listening to everybody’s songs.” Zuriel’s not entirely sure

why he’s telling her this. He had been determined not to bring up Lucifer and let her introduce him into the conversation, but he can’t help but say it. It certainly gets her attention in a kind of childlike way, hoping both for stories and that they won’t be bad ones.

“He was?” She finally prods for more.

“Oh yes. He knew everyone’s song by heart. Every name, every symphony. And he understood it all so well. He really heard us and not the way others did. He heard the deepest underlying melodies. When you were with him, you knew that he knew you completely and entirely, if only for that moment. The fact that he was still kind and loving and patient and accepting just made you love him so much. You could see in him everything you ever wanted to be, could be and should be. It made you want to try that much harder to live up to his faith in you. He was so bright and beautiful.” Zuriel stops as he sees a few tears in Riley’s eyes. 

“I never really hear anyone but mom and her siblings say anything good about him. Or talk about loving him.” She wipes her eyes with her wrist. “Thanks.”

“It’s hard for them. The more you love someone the more it hurts when they betray you or even just leave you behind. You hate them so much for the pain they cause you. The deeper the love the harder to get over it. I think humans can understand that. After all, some of you can even die of broken hearts.” He hands Riley the paper towel roll as her nose starts to run a little.

“Yeah, I understand.” She sniffs.

“I’m nowhere near as good as he is and to be honest, I don’t know if I’ll ever be. I’m

certainly not as good at helping people correct or change their songs. But I’m better at it than average. I’ve had training by a very skilled teacher and can offer more help in changing than most people can, but I’m not perfect either. One thing I can promise you is more neutrality on any subject that anyone your currently close to can give you. I can also promise confidentiality I know you might need some time to consider this, but if you’re willing to see me, all you have to do is pray for me and I’ll come down and see you. The Archangels have insisted that we make you and your cousins our top priorities. Someone’s already taking care of your brother.”

“Good, he deserves proper help.” Riley looks down at her food and takes a bit of twice baked potato. “Do you think they’ll be able to help him?”

“I think so.” he nods. 

“I really don’t know how much good talking about shit will do. Everyone wants me to talk

when I don’t want to fucking talk. I want to DO something about things.“Therapy doesn’t have to be just talking. There are other ways to help you regulate and explore your thoughts and emotions. Most of the skills we teach you are to help you regulate your emotions, control them instead of being controlled by them. They’re also to help you control and objectively observe your thoughts, change your behavior with the path of least resistance, and help make you better able to deal with the things that you have to in life in less harmful, damaging ways, either to yourself or those around you.

“It’s called Cognitive Behavioral Therapy or CBT for short and is based on the principle that thoughts affect feelings affect behavior in a never ending loop and that by changing one, you can change the others. But also by addressing all three even if just in small portions, it help your attempts to change in general, even if you’re currently focused only on one portion.” Zuriel explains. “Like working out every muscle group to improve your overall fitness even if what you’re trying to get better at only uses a few of them.”

“I see.” And Riley actually does. It’s a good explanation. But why is everyone in her fucking family so damn long winded? They accused her father of loving the sound of his own voice, but seriously, pot - kettle. “I do need some help with a few things, but I don’t want my relatives butting in trying to change me into something they want me to be. And I don’t want to talk about Abigail, or the whole bullshit with The Duck or any bullshit that I just don’t want to talk about just because someone else things I need to fucking work on it. I don’t need that crap right now.” She crosses her arms defensively, giving him a stern no nonsense, slightly threatening look.

“No, of course not. Your therapy sessions are all about you and what you want. I make suggestions but the focus will always be on what you want to fix and helping you become the person you want to be. Nobody else has a say in that. And as I said, you’ll also have almost complete confidentiality. I will never tell anyone else anything that’s discussed between us unless it involves illegal activities that directly threaten a person’s health and well being. Yours or anyone else’s.” He reassures her. This makes her relax a little bit. “In fact, I’ve been keeping anyone from hearing even this current conversation. What we say now is confidential as well.”

“Okay.” She smiles. “Does that include you catching me being nice to Jeff? Because I’m only trying to make sure he’s okay so he can help Mom and Chris when I can’t. And that’s it. If you tell anyone, they’ll expect me to keep being nice to him when this is all over.”

“I won’t tell a soul.” Zuriel tries not to smile, recognizing the attitude from when he was coming to terms with Castiel and his working to balance his desire to do right by both his family and friends/ humanity.

Riley just sits there and thinks a little as she works on her meal. There are some things she’s pretty sure demons can’t properly teach her like how to genuinely and lovingly make up with Chris and properly take care of him after he’s been hurt so badly inside and out. She’s not sure they can teach her to control her anger, either, just how to use it as a weapon. She needs to learn how to control it and set it aside when it would only get in the way, so she can get through that bitches demands and so she does start slipping into a murderous rage whenever Claudette comes up in any conversation, or even referred to. At least while she’s with Chris. Honestly she just needs help with her anger in general. It just makes everyone think she’s crazy or overreacting or being irrational.

“Can you help me learn how to stop being so damn angry all the damn time? It’s fucking everything up and is probably going to keep fucking everything up if I don’t do something about it.” She feels incredibly uncomfortable saying this. After all, her being angry is fully justified and she’s not exactly in the wrong for it, or even a little unreasonable for feeling the way she does, but it’s hurting the things that are important to her and getting worse and worse as time goes on.

“I can give you the tools and help you learn how to use them. But this is something that’s going to take a while to do. Years even. I’m not saying you won’t make progress or improve considerably but it takes time and effort to truly change your behavior. First and foremost, you’ll need to train your body to get in the habit of calmness. There are several exercises for that. This should help you the most with Chris right now.” He explains confidently.

“I also want to know what to do for Chris. I want to know how to make him feel better and get through all of this crap. I don’t want to fuck up and hurt him or upset him like I did before and I want to help him when someone else does, since I’m sure it’ll take more than threats of violence to deal with it. I want to…” Riley taps her fork repeatedly against the edge of the take out container as she tries to find the right words. “I want to be able to take care of him like he’s taken care of me. I want to really serve and support him for once. I don’t… I used to be better at it.” She stops talking. “Please don’t make me read any new books. I’m just up to here with reading material.” She raises her hand as high as it’ll go. “No reports or homework or worksheets or quizzes either.”

“I’ll do my best to accommodate your preferred learning style, but the best way to learn anything is by reading about it, writing about it, talking about it, hearing it, and doing it. So we really should try to incorporate all five at least a little.” Zuriel explains. Riley gives a frustrated sigh and nods. She’s a little disappointed but not surprised. “Is there anything you’d like to just talk or vent about right now?”

“No, not really. I just need some sleep right now, honestly. But, uh, yeah. That sounds good, thanks.” Riley scratches the back of her neck. “I’ll call you when I can find a good time.”

“Okay. Make sure you take care of yourself. Eat. Drink. Sleep. Shower. And have a little fun. It works wonders on reducing stress and anxiety, if only for a little while.” zuriel gets up. Riley grins when she realizes what he’s talking about. Violent angry sex with the Duck is fairly cathartic.

“You got it. Thanks.”

“Thank you.” Zuriel leaves. That was surprisingly painless. Honestly, with everything he’s heard about Riley, he expected a lot more swearing, hostility and aggressive posturing attempts at intimidation. He especially didn’t expect immediate acceptance and a clear willingness and desire to change what are most widely considered her most problematic behaviors. But as he told her, the love that essentially makes the core of her being is her best quality and was loudest when she was talking about her brother. As much as they’d hate to hear it, it’s something she shares in common with Dean. He’d be surprised if it wasn’t exactly the same with Chris.


	41. Concerned Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabrielle tries to take care of Michael  
> Shelly worries about Ben and Abigail and accidentally reveals some incredibly important information to her father and Uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas has been kind of overwhelming, not only with getting gifts and stuff ready, but we had and are now cleared from bed bugs so I have to put all of my things away again and the sheer scope is a little intimidating. I've been trying to keep up with posting, but my typed chapters caught up to my already written chapters and writing a chapter and typing a chapter every day has gotten a little too much. I will be writing every day so hopefully it shouldn't be more than 2 or 3 days between posts. Have a happy holiday and I hope you're enjoying the story.

Chapter 41 Concerned Siblings

  
  


“Hey.” Gabrielle sits down next to her big sister. “How ya doin’, Miqa?”

“Chris is talking to the police. I was asked to leave but he wanted Beatrice to stay.” Michael says, testily. “Of all the people he could have there supporting him, why her? They barely even know each other.”

“Michael.” Gabrielle puts her arm around her jealous sibling. “They’ve been really good friends for years. Abigail never let him come over unless Tris was there and they’ve been talking a lot on their own too, you know.”

“So that girlfriend thing was real?” Michael looks at her in surprise.

“Oh, no, that was just him totally trolling everybody.” She grins. “I kind of think he just doesn’t want you getting upset. You know, in general. We both know he’s not worried

about you getting upset with him for this. He’s probably just emotionally exhausted. You know how Raph gets sometimes when he’s just feeling too much to be able to deal with other people’s reactions. It’s like that. Especially after Riley’s outburst. Plus there are people you don’t want to discuss sexual things in front of, you in particular.” Michael feels a little offended at that particular specification.

“I thought you were going to say mothers.”

“Usually yes, but you are not a person who would either feel comfortable talking about or being talked to about sex of any kind. And yes, this whole situation counts. Especially since he might have to go into detail.” Gabrielle points out. She hates to say it, but it’s the truth.

“It shouldn’t count.” Is the stubborn reply. 

“I know.”

“Why is he okay talking to her about it?” Michael of course, can’t seem to let it go. Not that she blames him. She feels a little jealous of Shelly’s relationship with her dad sometimes. 

“Because she makes him feel safe, obviously.” Gabrielle shakes her head. He is not going to like that, but it has to be said.

“She’s human again!” Of course Michael misses the point entirely.

“Emotionally, Miqa.” She sighs. Of course he’d think physically. “I wouldn’t talk to you about it if something like that happened to me. I mean, I’d tell you about it eventually, but I sure as hell wouldn’t go into detail.”

“That’s a lie and you know it.” Michael accuses her.

“If you’re referring to my confession, that is different. Consentual sex and traumatic unwated sex of any kind are two different things. I didn’t even tell you about that, um, never mind. Just a small sexual harassment when I was human. Nothing big.” She realizes her mistake a little too late, and tries to brush it away with a brief explanation. Michael files it away for later. 

“I suppose I can understand that. Who could you, though? How could you talk about that sort of thing with anyone. I couldn’t… I don’t think I could talk about it with anyone. Honestly.” Michael gets oddly quiet.

“I’m not surprised. You’re not great about talking about emotional stuff in general.” Gabrielle considers and leans back against the wall. “I don’t think you’ve ever really fully trusted anyone but Alex since Luci fell. Even then… you always hold yourself back.” 

“I’ve always had to hold back, you know that, Bree.” He puts an arm around her, trying to be reassuring despite the incredibly sad but true thing he just said. It’s not a surprise though, it’s what he loves so much about just being human sometimes. He can occasionally stop holding himself back and just push himself to his limits. “It is what it is.” They just sit there for a while, taking comfort in each other’s presence. “You could talk to Luci about it, couldn’t you? If you were in Chris’ place right now.”

“Oh hell no! He’s the last person I’d want in that room with me.” Gabrielle winces. 

“Sam then.”

“Well, yes, but I mean, if there wasn’t anyone else. I don’t think he’d be my first choice to be honest. I could do it eventually, but… I don’t know if I could do it so soon.” She squirms uncomfortably. “Honestly, I think I’d want Raph. I mean he’d already kind of know what happened to me physically without my having to say anything. And even if he is the biggest tattle tale in existence, he’s at least the best at keeping his mouth shut during the moment. He can also help me keep calm. Plus he just gets more gentle and snuggly when he’s upset at something bad happening to you, or when you’re in pain. He doesn’t just start immediately plotting revenge. That can wait until you’re okay again. Sam’s not quite as good at that as he is. He’s really close, but Raph’s the master.” Gabrielle confesses, a bit 

“I wouldn’t…” Michael starts to protest.

“Oh don’t even try.” She interrupts him. “And don’t get all jealous overprotective mother over your baby boy, either. Especially not after handling Riley’s little indiscretion so well.”

“I’d hardly call something I learned from a photograph in the center pages of the tabloids ‘a little indiscretion’.” Gabrielle finds the slightly bitter tone in his voice more than appropriate.

“Speaking of which, I’ll need Riley and the Dick for an interview at the Today show tomorrow. They’ll need to ‘Peeta and Katniss’ it up for the olympic committee. Basically that means she’ll just have to shut up and let him be nice to her.”

“This is way too soon, Bree.” Michael admonishes her.

“Yeah, I know. But they refused to give them a later date. They did extend their time slot, though, assholes. I’m going to try and go coach them a little. Coach Riley a little, I mean. I don’t want her to let it slip that the whole thing is bullshit. Which she might. Accidentally on purpose.” She sighs, feeling exhausted at the prospect. “Maybe I should just slip her a mild tranquilizer before the show.”

“That’s not a good idea. If you do that you shut down her internal filter.” Michael shakes his head.

“There is no possible way that child has a filter!” Gabrielle exclaims, kind of horrified at the prospect.

“If you’d heard her when she got her wisdom teeth out… fortunately she was speaking in enochian, but all the things Riley has not said about Jeff came out. I can’t believe you taught her language like that! She almost successfully cursed him sevenfold and would have if her tongue hadn’t been so numb and she made the wrong gesture, giving him the fig instead. I’m fairly sure unfiltered Riley is what made Chris ask her to leave and not come back. I don’t know what to do here, Gabrielle. Riley is… I think she’s on the verge of breaking down completely and I don’t know what to do or how to help her. I try talking to her but since the funeral she just won’t really talk to me at all. Without Chris….” Michael closes his eyes, trying not to think too hard about it. It might be good for her. It might be bad for her. It might be horrible for everyone around her. And he just doesn’t know what to do.

“I think maybe we need to start looking for Luci, Miqa.” his little sister says quietly.

“I won’t leave my children. I can’t. Especially not now.” 

“I was thinking more along the lines of an organized search party. It might give Raphael something to do. And give him a little time and distance to get his head on straight regarding Alex and Abigail. I know you want him here with Chris, but I think the other Raphael’s going to come stay here for a little while and he’d probably be more than willing to keep an eye on Chris and make sure his recovery goes smoothly. I can ask him at least.”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll sacrifice Castiel and Harahel to the search,too. Castiel because that’ll guarantee Dean will join him and Harahel largely because he’s the only angel in heaven who would do his best just to bring him back. It’ll be near impossible to replace him, but we’ll manage somehow.”

“If you like, I could try to help with at least some of Castiel’s duties, but..” Michael offers but is interrupted by his sister’s laugh.

“I didn’t mean Castiel. Heaven’s been putting measures in place to deal with him just disappearing to help the Winchesters since way before you came back. Him leaving just means a little overtime for me and a field promotion for a few of the little ones. No, I’m talking about Harahel. He runs the library, the fledglings education program, the class schedules for the ones in heaven, the vessel classes and the ‘Rider’s Ed’ program as they’ve taken to calling it down at the hunters school. Not to mention he’s been going on hunts with Krissy from time to time. He’s as productive as Hermione with a time turner. 

“Not to mention the individual short term projects he’s completed. We now have a social media annex to the library where all social media content is filed and available in chronological order from the oldest entries to what’s happening immediately. He just finished it a month ago and it’s improved efficiency with independent information retrieval a hundred fold. There’s even a hunters helper database that searches for and isolates media posts both personal and official that indicate possible supernatural influences. It also provides up to date information on over all trends in incidents per creature, when and where and also has a page where you can put in a location or area of an incident or even just a creature, and get information on how likely a cause is and where.

“You can find all the information of a creature everywhere. You can’t access the information on earth, but it will send the desired information to a printer. It’s the most awesome thing I have ever seen. Do you have any idea how much more efficient this has made hunters? With or without angelic partners, the success rate is through the roof. It almost never takes more than two parties to solve a case, if that. Tiny little blade ditching Harahel is probably the most valuable angel we have in our efforts to protect and safeguard humanity. Can you believe that? I wanted to promote him to some sort of position higher than Heaven’s Librarian. He just said, ‘You mean like Reference Librarian?’ Which was so cute, I just let him go with that. Crap. Maybe I shouldn’t send him after all.” Gabrielle reconsiders.

“How in all of existence did he manage to do all of that in mere decades?” Michael seem feels more than just surprised at this.

“I have no idea. He seems to know the right people to go to for pretty much everything, angel or human. And he’s not exactly more socially outgoing than he was before. It’s really confusing. Maybe I should ask him.”

“Maybe.” Michael shrugs. “I wish there was something I could do about any of this. All I can do is be here.”

“It must be driving you crazy.” Gabrielle considers. “I know.” She smiles. “Do you want to go spar on the astro belt?”

“We’re too small for that right now.

“Dodge the diamond rain?”

“To solid, too large.”

“Get drunk off the giant alcohol cloud in space?” Of course the look Michael gives her at this is it’s own answer. “Slap tag?”

“What on earth is Slap Tag?” Michael frowns, having to ask, though he knows he probably won’t like the answer.

“You stay in once place while blindfolded, and I have to come up and slap you in the face without you catching hold of me in any way.” And he was right.

“That’s not a real game.”

“It is now.” Michael just looks at her as she grins that naughty grin at him. “You can call it special training.” She wheedles.

“No.”

“You can slap me back?”  
“Not a good idea.”

“You could… throw me across the galaxy.” What is it with her wanting to be hurled through space?

“Are you okay?” Michael looks down at his little sister.

“Me, yeah.” Gabriel gives a shrug. “I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You’ve been so still lately, it’s a little alarming. I’ve got it!” She stands up and grabs his wrists, not managing to drag him off anywhere. “No, really. You need to fight. We’ll go to the abyss so you can take on the aesir in a giant brawling weapon-less free for all.”

“I’m not leaving Chris. If he needs me I’m going to be right here.”

“I will make sure to bring you back right here the exact second we leave. After wards. You know I’m that good at this time stuff.”

“Alright, but only if you stay there with me and remind me not to drink anything and make sure I don’t accidentally drink something I shouldn’t.”

“Okay?”She shrugs freezes time and finally gets to drag him off.

“Hey, Dad.” Shelly appears cross legged on the meeting table as Sam works on some lesson plans for his substitute. “How’s tricks?”

“Alright. Bruce is at school right now. But he’s doing alright. He’s upset that he hurt your feelings, so you should probably go let him know you’re okay with him. Maybe talk to him about how you feel.”

“Okay.” She nods.

“That said, how are you doing?” Her father smiles gently at her. She just shrugs. “It’s okay, you can talk to me.”

“I feel like I’m letting everybody down. Like I’ve always been letting everybody down.” She lies down on her side, resting her head on her arm. “Nobody I care about wants me around.”

“Are you talking about Alice or Abigail?” He asks gently. She doesn’t answer. “Because you know that Bruce always wants you around. I want you around. Your mother wants you around. Abigail maybe a little grumpy with you but she wants you around, too. Just like her father is with your mother. As for Alice, relationships are complicated. It may feel as if the whole world doesn’t want you, but it’s not true. Everyone loves you and cares about you and very much wants you around. Things are just a little chaotic right now, that’s all.” Sam reaches out for his daughter’s free hand. “I for one will always be glad to see you no matter what. I love you, Shelly. You’re my little girl and always will be.” He moves up a little so he can kiss her cheek.

“I love you too, dad.” Shelly hugs him. “But I don’t… I don’t think that’s what it is with Abigail, though. Yes, she’s an adorable little Tsundere, but I don’t think that’s how it is anymore. I think she’s just genuinely glad I’m not around and if I didn’t force her to interact with me, she’d be genuinely happy never to see speak or hear from me again.” Shelly looks down at the table.

“I don’t believe that even a little bit, Shelly, and I’m actually surprised that you do.” Sam frowns, making those little forehead wrinkles, both Shelly and her mother find kind of cute. Ben has those too.

“No. I know. But I just… I could feel it, you know.” She pushes herself up with her elbow, resting her head on her fist.

“Feel it?”

“Yeah, you know like how I just kind of know when someone needs a little extra nudge or when I need to stop before going way too far. How I know who exactly I can recruit, and sometimes how. I just… I don’t know how to describe it. Yeah I fuck up the proccess a little sometimes, but I’m getting better at it and you can’t know everything about someone, right? This just.. She doesn’t care about me anymore and what’s worse, I don’t think she even cares about anyone anymore. I mean, she cares but not because she cares. You know what I mean?” She turns onto her back, resting her hands on her stomach. 

“Like if you gave me more bullshit about my grades when I was in school.” She continues. Sam decides to ignore that. “Maybe I’d have started doing all that useless busy work crap that makes up so much of your grade, but not because I gave a shit about the unnecessary time wasting bullshit, but because the hassle of not doing it was worse than the hassle of doing it.”

“So you think she’s doing caring compassionate things because of a pure cost benefit analysis?” Sam frowns. 

“Yeah, kind of?” She shrugs. “She was acting all caring and loving and stuff to Ben, was polite and tolerant of Jeb and ignored me as much as I let her, generally being polite. But it’s like there was nothing behind it. Like her heart was empty. Like she had no heart. The way she talked about him, too. Sure there were compliments but it was all about how he suited her needs.”

“By ‘him, I assume you mean Ben.” Sam clarifies.

“Yeah. She didn’t say anything about how adorable he is, the color of his eyes. The way he does things or says things, or even how she feels about him. She was just calm and rations about the whole thing. I thought Jeb was overreacting or misinterpreting or just jealous or something, but I kind of think maybe he’s right. That maybe… maybe she is using him. I mean, he loves it, of course, but he’s so desperate to do something right, every time she’s satisfied with him and his behavior or what he’s doing for her, he thinks it’s love. But it’s just positive feedback. All carrot, no stick.”

“That doesn’t really sound like Abigail.”

“No! It doesn’t. What especially doesn’t sound like Abigail is her putting him to sleep like she did.” Shelly sits up, leaning back on her arms and looks at him. “It’s wrong. This is all wrong. This absolutely isn’t my Abby-girl. I mean it is…. Joking about putting him to sleep so she could get stuff done and be sure to be back in time to snuggle with him as he wakes up, just because he wanted to wake up with her beside him for once. That would be a very Abigail kind of joke. But she’d never do it. She’d just put everything aside and just stay with him the entire night just to make sure of it. Doing what she did is just such a creepy, controlling kind of wrong, and just way, way inappropriate to do.”

“Yes, it certainly is.” Sam agrees, starting to feel really concerned for Ben.

“I mean it kind of left him helpless and vulnerable. Not that he was in any conceivable anger, but what if the building caught fire or there was an earthquake and it collapsed or something. Even if he does kind of automatically shield protect himself from real injury, can you imagine the firemen and rescue workers finding him frozen and completely covered in crystalized coating of ice that neither melts or cracks or chips or anything? And even without injury, anyone could have come and done anything to him. Abigail would never risk something like that. It’s just not something she would do.” Shelly looks so distressed, her father just wants to take her in his lap and cuddle her like when she was little. “And Ben just sat there, making excuses about why it was an okay thing to do. And I made excuses and shoved it aside because I didn’t know how to deal with that kind of contradiction and incredibly weird I felt. I told myself she’d just started mourning, or locked herself away and did something kind of considerate in a really weird way because she was just kind of screwed up about everything and not thinking straight.”

“It can be hard to accept that someone we love can be doing the wrong thing for the wrong reason. Or even that they’re doing the wrong thing for the right reason, much less say something about it.” Sam agrees. “Especially if we think it might hurt them somehow.”

“Yeah. But the thing is too, what I said could happen is exactly the kind of thing she would be freaking out over, right now. Sure after Uncle Helel and JJ died, she shut down emotional kind of like it seems right now, but she also got super over protective and worried about people. Especially over Bruce and her Mom. Even Chris and Riley the first time. She went to every practice and match they had at first after their father died. Especially when Auntir Miqa was human. She was probably prepared to throw fairness and the greater good to the wind if they had a bad enough accident. I know because she brought that giant brown purse with her and it was always filled to the brim with potions, salves, balms, blessed bandages, crushed herbs and minor spell components. All fresh properly prepared and aged and stored for immediate use every single time. She tensed up every single time they did something even potentially dangerous even if it wasn’t obvious.”

“Alex did mention getting a little exasperated with Both your uncle Raph and Abigail hovering over her and micromanaging her health like she was a 90 y ear old cancer patient they were desperately trying to get to the century mark.” Sam grins.

“Right? She went through my house, baby proofing things until even Alice couldn’t access things. It was like she wouldn’t be satisfied until his entire living area was nothing but a padded room. When Bruce tried to eat a clover she freaked out on me. I mean it’s an edible flower and yes, he had teeth by then. Just a couple, but still. Alice finally had to take her aside and have a talk with her about it both times.”

“I remember that.” Sam nods. “I thought it was kind of cute. You two are just like your angelic parents sometimes, especially with your relationship, you know if your mother was the older sibling.” Shelly ignores the comparison with her mother.

“Now, with Chris… she’s not doing anything. I understand her avoiding Riley given what an absolute shit she’s been, but Chris? Even if she wants to give him space, she’s not doing anything. She’s not talking to the DA or judges or his doctors. She hasn’t researched and presented potential treatments for the best way for him to gain use of his hands and feet again. Especially since we all know she has way more time at her disposal than we do, and why.” Shelly gives a frustrated noise. “She didn’t even visit him when he was unconscious and asleep! And her presence couldn’t upset him now that she finally let him down directly. I mean, I haven’t exactly visited him in person, either exactly, but it’s just…. everyone seems to find me more of an unwanted irritation than usual right now. I don’t want to do that to Chris after he’s been through so much.”

“I can understand how you feel, but you’re forgetting one very important thing about Chris.” Her father informs her.

“What?”

“He thinks you’re hilarious.” 

“I know.” Shelly squirms uncomfortably. “He finds me as funny as Abigail used to, but I don’t really think he’s in the mood for me joking around.”

“Shelly.” Sam reaches out to stroke her hair. “He’s probably more in need of laughter now than he ever has been. When I had cancer nothing made my day like when your mother was there, making me laugh. And she didn’t ignore my illness completely either. Some my favorite jokes and pranks were about it. My absolute favorite was actually when we cut off my hair while Dean was off hunting. We were getting it cut and made into a wig before it could fall out from Chemo and we pranked Dean by having me wear a beanie over my bald head. We left my mutton chops so he wouldn’t be suspicious,” He explains. “He of course couldn’t help ripping it off my head. The look on his face was hilarious. She of course missed it but there was a nanny cam that caught it. It wasn’t as good as being there, but still.”

“That was more mean than funny.” They look over to see Dean passing through to get to the kitchen. 

“It was funny and you know it.” Sam grins at him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Anyways Chris has a much better prognosis than I did. But I think he’d love having a way to joke about his current disability. If he can make jokes, than he can eventually make jokes with Riley and they can both start feeling a little better about things together.”

“Yeah, maybe. I dunno. I just don’t… I don’t think I have any better chance of getting things right with Chris than I have with anything else lately.” She gives a deep sigh. “Oh!” she seems to remember something. “Uncle Dean.”

“Yes, Shelly?”

“You used to have like awful nightmares, right?”

“Uh, yeah. I… used to have nightmares.” He replies getting some instant coffee from the cabinet.

“They probably woke you up alot or kept you from sleeping well, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Did it ever get so bad that you just refused to sleep or something? How did you keep yourself awake and functioning? Especially on hunts?”

“Drugs. Lots of drugs.” He replies much to Sam’s irritation. “But you don’t have my limitations. Why? Are you getting nightmares?”

“No. I think maybe Abigail might be. I don’t think she’s sleeping well. Or even at all honestly. She doesn’t seem at all tired and definitely drugged in any way. She doesn’t even have bags under her eyes or any obvious signs of fatigue. But she didn’t nod off even once during the entire Disney movie marathon that contained not only the entire star wars franchise but every single movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

“The MCU is not Disney. The DCU is.” Dean corrects her. 

“It is in Ben’s thread. But their DC universe is so bad it’s downright offensive. Except for Wonderwoman, of course.”

“Huh.”

“I need to get you their Christopher Nolan Batman Trilogy, it’s fantastic.”

“Okay.”

“But I mean she didn’t sleep at all. Not even a microsleep. I know because I stayed up the whole time waiting for her to zonk out. And it had absolutely no effect on her mental or physical state what-so-ever. I asked Ben about it when she was going to the bathroom. He didn’t even know she snored!” She frowns in consternation, then looks up as her father and uncle turn to look at each other, both of them wide-eyed and clearly alarmed. “What?”


	42. A Surplus of Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam argues with Dean over how to approach the souless Abigail problem and stresses over not being a good brother to the twins.  
> Riley apologizes to Sam and Dean for the funeral.

Chapter 42 A Surplus of Siblings

  
  


“You can’t seriously want us to just ask her about this.” Dean crosses his arms, as he sits on the table next to his brother. “Talking to her has got to be the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth and you’re the one who told me you and the trickster were getting married.”

“It’s not stupid if it works, Dean.” Sam corrects him, ignoring what’s probably the weakest insult his brother’s lobbied at his sister in law to date. 

“If she’s lost or injured or removed her soul in any way or even just died recently, there is not a single truthful answer she could give us that she wouldn’t have brought up to us independently.” He argues. 

“You know that’s not true.” Of course, Sam would disagree with him. He’s all buddy buddy with Raphael in regards to parenting crap so he’s not exactly unbiased himself. “While she’s not exactly forthright about everything she’s been doing. I do kind of understand not wanting to have to run her life choices past an entire committee of controlling, opinionated family members even if they are loving and supportive. She has been honest. It’s more than clear that her style of deceit is just doing her thing, not talking about it, and hoping no one asks the right questions. She answers honestly when directly clearly asked about something. If she really doesn’t have her soul. It’s entirely possible that she doesn’t know what’s happened to her. She might just think she feels better than she has in a very long time.” Sam’s last statement takes Dean completely off guard.

“The fuck kind of thing are you saying?” Replaces his planned arguments.

“Well,” Sam rubs the back of his neck. “When you don’t need to sleep. You don’t exactly get tired. Not feeling guilt or shame, and not actually caring about other people in any way besides how it directly relates to you and what you want… Well, you don’t feel very much stress for a surprisingly long time. It makes a lot of things easier and less complicated for a while. I don’t know. I don’t want to talk about it. It does explain why Abigail keeps insisting she’s fine. She kind of is.” Sam doesn’t say anything for a bit after this, lost in thought as Dean tries to figure out how exactly he wants to respond to this. 

“Anyways,” Dean finally says something. “It’s still an if. I’m fairly sure she’d be aware of it being forcibly taken from her. And I’m definitely sure she’d remember it if she fucking died and was ressurrected.”

“True. Of course Shelly might be right about her having nightmares. Abigail could just be using Ben’s gift to keep herself awake or from needing sleep at all. When pointed out, though, her actions do seem unlike her. The gap between what we think about doing or even might desire to do and what we end up doing is significant and for her to suddenly start crossing that gap when she otherwise wouldn’t is a sign of a major change that’s cause for worry even without her soul being the issue.” Sam points out. 

“Yeah, but, Sam… She scares the fuck out of me.” Dean confesses. “I was always impressed how intimidating she could be. She’s always been able to pull off the ‘I’m in charge respect me’ thing better than her father did, not that he was bad, it was just obvious he was trying really hard. The twins listened to her better than they did anyone else for a while. I’m pretty sure Chris still would.”

“True.”

“But since her mother died, she’s went from that to scary and that bothered me for more than just her being a disrespectful little shit.”

“And your embarrassment over being afraid of a child who’s diapers you once changed?” Sam grins slightly.

“Yeah. More than that and I didn’t know why, you know. I knew I felt that way before, but I couldn’t remember from what. Now I do. She scares me the way you scared me. Not that she’s done anything that you did, really, but I get that same feeling from her. Her not having her soul is the only thing that makes that feeling make sense.”

“I think it’s the most likely reason, too.” Sam sighs, crossing his arms. “We need to get it back to her before she does something that she won’t be able to forgive herself for.”

“And what if she doesn’t want it back, Sam?” Dean asks.

“Abigail’s a reasonable rational person. When I tell her about my experience, and explain why it’s better to have it. I think she’ll understand.” Sam assumes, thinking he’s being rational and objective about this, though Dean knows it’s all bull shit. 

“You do realize that she’s an actual human being, right?” Dean can’t keep himself from snapping at his little brother, who looks as incredibly hurt at the question as he is surprised. “She’s not a robot. She’s not just some perfect little girl that runs on pure reason and logic and responsibility.”

“Of course not. Why would you think that?” Sam asks, still very hurt. Dean decides not to go down that conversational road. It’s bad enough he’s starting to sound like Sam, he doesn’t feel like arguing with Mr Empathy that he’s just not getting it in regards to his niece.

“So how do we know that she didn’t remove it her own damn self?”

“Why would you even think that? She knows better that to even consider that.” 

“Really? Because it sure would have made her a better fit to rule Hell. That’s for damn sure. And if she took out her soul maybe that would lead to her doing things that would condemn her to hell like Billie told Alex. “He points out. “The Abigail we know never would. She’d never do some of the things she’s done. But a soulless Abigail?”

“True. We don’t know that this change in her happened after her mother died. For that matter we don’t know that whatever’s condemned her to hell happened before the day her mother died. It might have happened around the same time.” Sam starts tapping on the side of the table. “We need to talk to Raphael and Michael about this.”

“I dunno. They’re not exactly objective. Michael has his hands fully right now, and Raph doesn’t really seem to take people questioning the perfection of his daughter very well.”

“He doesn’t think she’s perfect, Dean. And accusing her of murder is a little more than implying that she has faults.” Sam points out, fairly enough. “I think the idea of Abigail behaving like she is because she has no soul will be alot easier to take than the idea that he doesn’t really know her as well as he thinks he does. I’ll talk to him first, and then I’ll talk to Michael because he absolutely wants to know something like this is going on, no matter how busy he is.”

“Good luck.” Dean shakes his head and sighs.

“Why don’t you go try to talk to Tris and see if she knows anything about this.” 

“Right. I’ll talk to Riley, too. Maybe she knows something we don’t, something she thinks we’d never believe. She might know a reason why Abigail wouldn’t want her soul back or why she might remove it in the first place. If she did.”

“Alright. I’ll ask Shelly to talk to Ben.”

“I think we need to talk to Ben, Sam. You know Shelly is all about protecting her little cousin, even from us. Plus he might fold a little easier talking to us, you especially. Maybe your wife would be helpful too.”

“We are not going to treat any of the children like criminals. Not Abigail, and definitely not Ben. We’re certainly not going to do a good cop bad cop interrogation for this. Much less bring in his dead aunt’s counterpart for psychological manipulation!” Sam angrily gets to his feet. “I thought you’ve moved past this kind of bullshit, Dean!”

“Woah.” Dean holds out his hand, standing up as well. “You okay there, Sammy? You don’t usually lose your temper like this until well after the shit hits the fan.”

“Hasn’t it?”

“Well, I don’t see the end of the world on the horizon so…” Dean points out.

“Our little brother is in the hospital and may permanently lose the use of his hands and feet because of whatever bullshits going on. And you want to do things that will only push the rest of the children further away from us? We have a hard enough time getting them to come to us about things in the first place.”

“Because you don’t make them!” Dean protests. “You don’t check up on them like you should in the name of trusting them. You wait for them to ask for help while praising them for their independence. You don’t hold them accountable for their behavior and then are surprised when they don’t care to get your approval before hand. No one seems to set them any real boundaries anymore except each other. The way Michael let’s her talk to Jeff is just… It’s not okay. Jeff is doing nothing but trying to take care of his best friend and his children, probably one of the most caring unselfish things I’ve seen a civilian do in a long time and they all just let him get insulted, disrespected and walked on by that child like that bullshit is okay. She steals his car on a regular basis. She is a night mare of a step child and he doesn’t even get to have sex with her mother. Don’t get me wrong I love Riley, but can you imagine if we treated one of Dad’s friends that way when they were helping us out?”

“Dean,” Sam says quietly. “I’m pretty sure the fact that Michael doesn’t react to the twins like dad would have is one of the reasons Riley’s not actually as physically violent as they seem.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Dean mutters rubbing the back of his neck. “I love the girl, but she is fucked up and I do not know how to reach her. We’re just lucky she hasn’t been introduced to pills and alcohol yet. Maybe on her twenty first birthday we should just set a couple thousand dollars aside for bail money and compensation for property damage as our gift. Because if she gets drunk with this many anger issues, bad things will happen.”

“And here I thought you didn’t remember your twenty-first birthday celebration.” Sam grins.

“Shut up,” Dean starts to pace a little. “And don’t worry about Chris. He’ll be fine. Cas and I are working on finding the creature that set this whole thing up, and you know Raph’ll make sure he’ll be just fine. Even if they are taking a hell of a detour to get him to fine.”

“Yes, well, it’d just cause too many problems if he was suddenly healed and ready to go. If one of us had gotten to him before he was in the hospital, or even just before the press found out, it would have been different, but he’s a public figure. It’d draw way too much attention and the wrong kind, even more so than it did before. It’s the whole reason Michael objected to it in the first place. They can’t help him the way they want to without ruining his life in the process.” Sam watches him. 

“Yeah,yeah I know. But like I said, Chris’ll be fine.”

“Physically yes, eventually, but he’s not fine now and if we don’t figure out how to help him cope with this better than we did with Riley about her father’s death, he won’t be fine later.”

“Like hell he won’t. He did good, Sam.” Dean pauses to poke the table top with his index finger. “He kept calm. He took control of the situation to an impressive degree, and he did what he needed to do to buy the time he needed for help to come. All that needs to be done is to make him aware of the fact that he is responsible for his own survival.”

“Dean, I get what you’re saying.” Sam sighs. “But he’s not a hunter. He’s not even really a fighter. He’s a seventeen year old boy who’s been through something absolutely devastating, mind body and soul. You don’t just get over something like that because you know you survived it. Don’t even try to say we’re fine.” He interrupts before Dean can finish opening his mouth.

“You are at least. And you’ve been through worse.”

“Trauma isn’t a contest where you’re only allowed to suffer from it if you reach a certain ranking. And no, I am very much not fine. And neither are you.”

“Christ, Sam,” Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not… look, you’re calling him our little brother now, fine. Biologically he’s a Winchester, I get that. But we Winchesters are not victims. We’re nobody’s prey and when push comes to shove we do what we have to do to survive. Which he did and I can promise you that I will not let him feel ashamed of that, and I won’t let anyone else make him feel like some helpless victim to be pitied, when he’s a goddamned survivor.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all, Dean. And what do you mean I’m calling him our little brother now? I’ve always cared about the both of them, just as much as any other member of my family and you know that.” he violently unplugs his laptop.

“Yeah. I know. You care about everybody, Sam.” Dean just brushes it aside. “Look, I’ know why you’re not… Why.. look, we all know and we all understand why you keep your distance from them and haven’t developed an actual relationship with them. But don’t try to force feelings you’re absolutely not required to have just because you think you should have them.”

“Excuse me?” Sam straightens up.

“They’re not your responsibility, Sam. They have plenty of adults in their life to take care of them and protect them already. You being closer to them would not have prevented this. It would not have gotten Chris rescued any sooner.” Dean places his hands on his brother’s shoulders. “This whole cluster fuck is not something you could have prepared for. I mean the whole thing went down like it did due to pure chance, beginning and end. She randomly saw him pass by when she was getting off work. The fucking polive stumbled into the whole thing due to an address mix up on the warrant. They were expecting a meth lab or something. And we still don’t know who’s responsible for manipulating that little psycho stalker in the first place. We don’t even know what they are or what they’re really after with this bullshit. Your forcing yourself to be close to Lucifer’s children after he died, at least one of which who would reject any relationship with you out of just plain loyalty to their dad, Could not have possibly prevented any of this from happening and you know that.” Sam can’t bring himself to meet his brother’s eyes. “Sammy, you do know that, right?”

“I think it should have been obvious that the twins would be targeted at some point.” Sam says quietly. “An extra pair of eyes could very well have prevented this from happening. Maybe from someone who wouldn’t be able to forget that they’re Lucifer’s children, and not just world famous Olympic Athletes.”

“They’re also Michael’s children, you know. And when they were targeted last time, it was to get to Lucifer. He’s not here to get to anymore.”

“They were this time, too. Which means his death hasn’t protected them like he thought it would.” Sam closes his eyes. “If he’d been here….”

“Well, he’s not and he made damn sure he wouldn’t be.” Dean shakes her head and gives Sam an odd look. “You don’t… Sam, what the hell is going on in that head of yours right now? You’re not actually thinking of going to fucking look for that bastard, are you?”

“No.” Sam sighs. “I promised….”

“Who the HELL asked YOU to promise to look for LUCIFER? What Self Centered, sociopathic FUCK would…”

“DEAN! I promised NOT to look for him.” Sam interrupts the budding tirade. 

“Oh.” Dean stops himself, equally surprised by that, but definitely not outraged by it. 

“What the hell, Dean? I answered you with ‘no’. As in I wasn’t going to look for him.”

“Yeah, but you can get tricky. Who asked you not to look for him, though? I can’t think of anyone who’d feel they’d have to. I can think of someone who might have asked you to help….,”

“Michelle asked me to promise her I wouldn’t go look for him. No matter who asked me or why.” Sam’s affectionate smile is the least surprising thing about his answer.

“Shelly? I thought it was weird she didn’t put up more of a fuss about our decision, but this? Wow.” Dean crosses his arms and leans back against the table. “I knew she wouldn’t have asked you to after the whole heart attack thing. I think she finally understood things then, but I didn’t expect her to pre-emptively keep you from doing it. Did anyone ask you?”

“Not really. Chris very clearly didn’t ask me to. Raphael didn’t ask either, though not as intensely, but that was just a moment of weakness.” Sam confesses. “I was glad. Being able to live like this, with my wife and daughter and grandson. Having the school, everything all of it without his existence pressing down on me like millstones. I never had to prepare myself to interact with him, or see him, or hear about him. I never had to think about him at all if I didn’t want to. And I didn’t. I avoided the twins so I wouldn’t. I can’t look at them and not see him looking back at me. And that’s not their fault.” Sam sits heavily back down in the chair and leans over the side of the table, resting his forehead on his hands. 

“It’s not your fault, either, Sam.” Dean leans over, putting a hand on his little brother’s back. “What you went through and how it affected you, it wasn’t something you can control. You shouldn’t punish yourself for it.”

“I should have been a better brother. I should have been more like you and did my best to take care of them the way you always took care of me. But I didn’t. I told myself what you just said, that they didn’t need me. That there were enough people in their lives that loved them that it didn’t make a difference if I kept my distance from them. That’s not the point. I’m their big brother. I should have been their big brother. And I haven’t been. I’ve failed miserably. Just like I did with Adam.”

“Sam…”

“I didn’t even try to help him down there, Dean. And I didn’t think about him at all once I was out, either. I just left him there and abandoned him without a second though and look what happened to him. He was almost stuck in there forever. And here I had a chance to step up and do it right this time, from the very beginning even, and I just didn’t. I selfishly abandoned them when they needed me most.”

“Excuse me,” They look over to see Riley standing in the hallway. “But the hell is he talking about?” She puts her hands on her hips. “I know he’s not talking about Chris and me like we’re some poor little orphan children selling matches by the wayside. We are goddamn olympic gold medalists and a year away from being financially independent, provided our portfolios were managed decently.” She strides in, rolling her eyes. “Hey, Dean. Uncle Sam.” She makes it clear the kind of relationship she considered them to have.

“We were kind of having a private conversation.” Dean turns towards her.

“Yeah. A loud and long one. I’m sorry. I was waiting patiently, but It’s been long enough that the Duck keeps quacking up my phone trying to talk with me about the talk show tomorrow. Your wife is a lunatic.” She points accusingly at Sam who just stares at her, a little thrown off by the interruption. “I always assumed shelly got her over dramatic side from her, but I guess not.”

“Oh, I know you’re not calling anyone else overdramatic.” Dean grins at her. She grins back.

“I don’t bring the drama. I just fucking master it.” Riley puts a hand to her chest.

“That is outright bullshit and you know it.” Dean points to her as he heads over to give her a hug. “Sorry I haven’t been around more.”

“You’re hunting what needs to be hunted. But I did want to apologize to you two for my behavior at Aunt Alex’s funeral. I know you guys were close and I just kind of lost my fucking mind, that’s all. But it wasn’t fair to any of you and I’m sorry I made a difficult time even more difficult. So… yeah,” She rubs the back of her neck. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Sam reassures her, “You were under a lot of stress. I think I’d have gone a little nuts in those circumstances too.”

“Yeah, no, it’s .. we get it. We’re okay.” Dean pats her head. 

“Have you apologized to anybody else yet?” Sam asks carefully. “Because I’d wait a little while to go talk to Claire, preferably when you’re on better terms with her niece.”

“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t go see her for a pretty long time.” Dean agrees.

“Don’t worry. I’m only apologizing to people I even remotely give a shit about. I’m going to talk to mom later when she comes home or something. I’ll just tell Luc I’ll meet him at the studio in the morning.” She takes out her cellphone.

“Oh, you’ll tell ‘Luc’ huh?” Dean grins at this.

“Duck! I said Duck. As in The Duck. So I forget the ‘the’ sometimes.” she clumsily tries to cover her mistake as she texts him. “Maybe I should start calling him Donald. I mean he’s asked me to stop calling him ‘The Duck’ as he can’t pretend not to absolutely hate it.”

“Not Howard?” Dean asks.

“Way too cool for him. Plus it doesn’t match either his profile pic or his assigned ringtone.” She shows Dean the icon of a hopping mad Donald Duck. Her evil grin when she plays the sound of the raging cursing duck voice is kind of adorable. “He tried to secretly program himself as something lovey into my phone so he only has himself to blame. So this is now the permanent background and ringtone of his personal cell phone as well as my contacts. Amatuer.”

“That is awesome.” Dean laughs.

“Okay, I’m… I’m going to go.” Sam gathers himself together and takes his laptop back to his bedroom for the night. Maybe he’ll feel better after he gets some sleep.

“So, how long were you listening for?” Dean asks once his brother’s gone.

“From Mr. Emo calling Chris is little brother and you dismissing his pain like he meant nothing to you.” There’s an edge in her voice that makes Dean regret his choice of words. “That’s why I waited. I’ve been working on getting control of my temper and calming myself down before acting ever since my fight with Chris.” She sends the text to her lover and puts her phone back in her pocket.

“Wow. That’s uh…” Dean blinks a little remembering the other things he said, mostly about her. Nothing bad about Chris though, which is why she’s speaking to him so civilly. “That’s impressive progress for four days.”

“To be honest it feels like it’s been four months.” She comments.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I said anything that hurt your feelings. I’d have said it differently if I knew you could hear me.” Dean apologizes.

“No, you’re right. I’ve been a selfish ungrateful bitch with Jeff. Treating him like an evil stepfather when he’s not even screwing my mom.” The mischievous grin she gives him makes him feel pretty certain that either Michael, Jeff or both are going to hear about that one. Probably when he forgets all about it. “He’s been good to Chris, I guess. He feels as weird about you as Uncle Sam does us, though for different reasons. You can tell him not to worry about it. Dad explained things to us very early on so we’ve just tried to leave him alone anyways.”

“I’m still impressed you managed to hear all that and not at the least barge in and start yelling.”

“Well, you know what they say. Love conquers all.” Riley sighs a little dejectedly. “I would have waited for you two to stop talking completely but I just could not take that stupid everything if my fault because I’m not everywhere at once and everything to all people nonsense. It’s like blaming yourself for things not even remotely your fault is a fucking requirement for being a hero. That’s why I’m a figure skater. I don’t have time for that all that excessive, irrational mea culpa bullshit. Fuck people anyways.” She crosses her arms. “I was talking about Chris by the way, with the love thing.” She unnecessarily clarifies.

“Right.” Dean nods, though even a more nakedly adoring romantic statement would have been just as obviously about Chris. Unfortunately his discomfort with raw emotion shows on his face.

“Why are you so weird about this? You and Sam are the same way.” Riley accuses, poking him in the chest.

“What? We are not. I mean, yeah. I guess we’re kind of that close but we don’t say creepy incestuous shit like the two of you do.”

“No, you just rip the universe to shreds every time each other is in danger. Besides, you know we’re only so extreme in our naked devotion to each other for the sake of the twincest shippers. You know, when we’re in public.”

“Yeah, it’s not like it really changed as you grew older. You’re actually a little more subdued I think. I guess it can’t be helped. People still kept mistaking Sam and me for a gay couple all the damn time. He thought it was hillarious, but it drove me fucking nuts.”

“I bet, so what did you need to talk to me about?” Riley heads to the kitchen. “Shelly’s mom said you probably wanted to talk to me. She knows I wouldn’t talk to her because her daughter’s always been Abigail’s little groupie. Plus that woman is just too annoying. Do you guys have anything good? I’m tired out from yelling at your crazy sister in law earlier and that’s making me hungry again. Please tell me you have meat.”

“Yes. And would it kill you to refer to your Aunt as Aunt Bree? Or at least Aunt Gabrielle?”Dean asks, not because he really cares but if he doesn’t he knows she’ll get on his case about encouraging her to be disrespectful. 

“Maybe. I mean, I love her I guess. But Oh my god! She’s worse than Shelly!” Riley gives an exasperated little scream which Dean just finds so understandable.

“At least she loves you. She hates me. Trust me. It could be so much worse than bad jokes and romantic meddling.”

“Nah, she doesn’t hate you. She just can’t stop using you as a punching bag to vent her frustrations with mom. I don’t get it. You’re nothing like him at all, aside from being good leaders and strategists and stuff.”

“The fuck?” Dean can’t help but reply, though he appreciates Riley’s statement. Sure he and Michael get along okay, but he doesn’t want to be compared to him much more than Sam wants to be compared to Lucifer. He’s pretty sure the angels feel the same way.

“Oh, she and Uncle Raph had a drinking contest one night after Uncle Jeff took Mom out to play pool. So of course Chris and I had to get a front row seat of that. We had to use spy tech, though so Uncle Raph couldn’t catch us eaves dropping.”

“That shouldn’t have kept your Aunt from noticing, though.” Dean frowns.

“We use sign language when we don’t want Auntie dear to overhear us scheming anything. But she doesn’t pay attention to audio tech stuff going on in the background. Especially if she’s drinking. If we did a live video feed or watched and listened at the same time that would have been different, though. So we waited until she passed out or left and used a small time pausing spell we cobbled together, listened to it and destroyed it ‘accidentally’ with soda when we were done.”

“So, she can’t intercept conversations in sign language?” Dean perks up at this.

“She can on a video feed but not if you do it in person, unless of course she’s there.” 

“Man, Cas and I are going to have to learn sign language.” He considers. “But damn, you two are downright terrifying. Is there anything anyone can keep you two out of if you wanted in?”

“Eh, Just heaven. We tried, but that stupid Angel of Meow Mix just shoved us back into our bodies and threatened to tell Mom if we ever tried that bullshit again.”

“Excuse me? You what?” Dean looks over at her so fast he practically gives himself whiplash in the process.

“Astral projection. We got one of Uncle Raph’s feathers to try and teleport or something and go see Mom and Dad’s old rooms.” She shrugs off his concern. “I mean, we’re not stupid, we used tethers. They worked for the abyss right?” 

“No! No they didn’t! Jesus Christ! You would have killed your selves, and been sent right back out into new fetus’. Not even a chance for us to save you or get you back. Did you even think... How old were you?”

“Eleven.” She starts to look a little uncomfortable. “”We just thought maybe there might be some sort of clue…” Riley finally starts to look embarrassed, which is not reassuring enough.

“Do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

“Yes! Okay? Yes! Don’t mention this to Chris, she erased his memory of it adn gave me a much bigger fucking lecture than was called for. She promised that if I didn’t make damn sure that me and Chris never tried anything like that again, she was going to tell every single member of our family and assign us personal reapers to make sure that we died instantly at the first opportunity. Well, not exactly, that, but you know.” Riley shrugs. “I’m.. I’m glad she didn’t take him, though.” She puts a hand uncomfortably to her chest. “I’m glad she let them bring him back. Look, I’m.. I’m really kind of tired and not as hungry as I thought. Do you think I could maybe talk some time after the thing with the today show tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.” Dean frowns. “Say, Abigail doesn’t know about that, does she?”

“Oh, please, like she would have let us try that shit.” Riley rolls her eyes, and starts to walk back “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Oh, and Dean?” She grins at him, “If you think I can’t outrun the police no matter how drunk I get, you’ve got another thing coming.”


	43. Public Figure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Duck plays Peeta to Riley's Katniss  
> and manages to impress both Shelly and Chris
> 
> Shelly brings Chris some replacement hands.
> 
> Chris gets embarassed by his cousins during his live stream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay, Holiday stress, illness and a covid scare took me out of commission for a while. I'm okay. Everything's okay now, but I'm still worn out and probably won't get out more than three or four chapters a week now.

Chapter 44 Public Figures

  
  


Chris looks up at the television. Riley’s interview on the today show should be on about now. But shes’ going to be on with the duck, talking about their relationship and he does not want to hear about that. At all. He definitely does not want to hear her answering questions about what happened to him. Of course the last time they tried to ask questions about harassment and stalkers and unpleasant messages that got through, she just got up and left, taking him with her. They don’t mind an angry outburst, but empty airtime is another thing entirely.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to see this.” Shelly turns the TV on, and places herself behind Chris, snuggling him enough so he’s comfortable. “I love hospital beds. I think I’ll turn my bed at home into a hospital bed.” Chris feels surprisingly safe in her arms, like he’s still a small child, sitting in his father’s lap.

“What’s been done about the picture. How are you handling this invasion of your privacy?” Of course Becky Brighteyes is talking to them about that.

“You mean, the crime I am a victim of?” Riley corrects her cooly. “The child pornography sent to the world of me and my lover?”

“Ah,Yes.” The hostess flushes a little.

“The entire magazine is being sued to oblivion. The photographer is going to jail and everyone responsible for it’s posting being approved as well. I think we might own it by the end of the year. “Riley slouches down in the chair, resting her head on her hand, her elbow on the arm rest. “It’s fine. Whatever.”

“Riley’s not one to be shamed.” That damned Duck smiles. “It’s not the way we intended anyone to find out, but at least we don’t have to hide it anymore.” He actually reaches over to take her hand.

“I’m not sure which surprised me more, that the two of you were involved or that Riley’s the girl.” the good ol’ boy cohost laughs. Shelly and Chris both sharply inhale at this, wincing at the question. That’s not going to end well.

“The biological details of Riley’s naked body is nobody’s business but his and his doctors.” The duck frowns at the man. “Neither is Chris’ for that matter. Gender is not determined by the shape and function of a person’s genitals. Nor does it predetermine how well they fit within the roles society has chosen for them based on those biological details, even if they were cis.”

“Damn.” Shelly comments, as impressed as Chris refuses to admit he is at this little speech. Chris is more impressed at the ease at which that bastard uses Riley’s correct pronouns for the day.

“In fact,” He continues, “Given the circumstances under which this information was revealed, which we just discussed, it’s even more inappropriate than usual that you would say that.”

Whatever the flustered host is about to say is drowned out by the very loud applause and cheers of the audience. The prompter either knows the right place to stand on the issue or the crowd does.

“My apologies.” The host says awkwardly. “I meant no offense. It’s very unusual to hear such things from you though.” he tries to flip the spotlight and accusations back to the Duck. Chris does not appreciate the wussy maneuver, no matter how deserved it may be. “If I recall you were very critical and derisive of the twins for most of your olympic career.”

“You mean from six years ago when I was a thirteen year old asshole until last year when Riley and I first became involved? I have no excuse. I behaved badly, I knew I was behaving badly and I did it on purpose. It’s odd that a fourty year old man born in the twenty first century considers that worse than his own blatant lack of respect for trans and enby people. Especially one who just lost the ability to enter in the olympics this year. Because of the violation you’re so casually referring to.” 

Shelly actually claps and ‘whoo’s a little at this.

“I can’t help but feel, in retrospect, that maybe there was a little pigtail pulling going on there?” Becky bright eyes says in that conspiratorial way people do when talking nonsense.

“You say that as if that would make it okay somehow. Or even endearing.” The Duck’s reply surprises Chris even more. “It was terrible harmful behavior that makes someone who does it less of a person someone should become involved with.”

“Well, no, I mean, what you’re saying is correct. I just was wondering if you had feelings for him even back then.”

“When he was eleven? No thirteen year old teenager is interested in an eleven year old child. The difference between thirteen and eleven is far greater than seventeen and Nineteen. I may be an asshole, but I’m hardly a pedophile.

“That said, All I can say is that at some point in my career, every accusation leveled at me by her fans, in regards to my behavior was pretty much right. I was insanely jealous of the both of them, not only because of them stealing the spotlight in almost every way but because of the freedom in which they expressed themselves. I was threatened by them and their skill and their youth. Even if we had one, they would have been better than I was at their age, which means that they would eventually have surpassed me. Which the judges seemed to think they did.” He teases Riley a little, but she just rolls her eyes instead of jabbing back, which is a little concerning. 

“But most of all I couldn’t handle the feelings they engineered in me as we grew older.” He continues. “They were both uncomfortably compelling. Chris, as you know is one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen. Their attractiveness is indisputable no matter what they wear, or how they hold themselves.”

“It sounds almost as if you had a crush on Chris, not Riley. At least he certainly got more of your attention. When did your affections switch?” Becky asks.

“Never.” the Duck rubs the back of his neck. “It was always Riley that confounded me the most and was the focus of my feelings. He really seemed the most real, the most passionate. He was always unapologetically himself, direct even with his secrets. Especially on the ice. He is and always has been a raging fire, burning as brightly as the greatest star. Adn like a moth, I could not resist him. That made me extremely angry and resentful of course.” He confesses.

“Really?”

“It was hard enough to get most of my family to accept me as a figure skater. The thought that I might be anything but straight and gender conforming was terrifying. Riley’s pure alpha presence threatened both my identity and the very way I defined myself and my role in society. The way I treated them both was out of fear and hatred and I was out of line.”

“But it was Chris that drew most of your attention. Why is that if the focus of your feelings was Riley?” The stupid host asks aun unoffensively stupid question.

“That should be obvious.” The Duck straightens up. “The only real way to hurt Riley is to hurt Chris. There is nothing and no one she loves more. I doubt there ever will be.” He smiles affectionate at Riley. “I do regret my actions. And however badly I hurt Chris with what I said, I hope he can forgive me for being an ass. Who knows maybe Riley will someday as well.” It almost sounds like a joke. Though but Shelly and Chris know it’s not.

“Well, it’s just amazing when you think about it, seeing first hand how love can give a man the strength to change.” Becky looks over to her cohost who nods.

“Actually, Becky. It was changing myself that gave me the strength to admit my feeling, both to myself and Riley. Hate’s what actually prompted my change, as perverse as that may sound. And not the self hatred that aimed at the twins. There was this family member, everyone knows them who needs to know. But basically they treated me like crap my entire life. They weren’t in it for a while and they came back sometime after Marie and I lost to the twins. They started berating me for it, yelling at my mother for encouraging me to become… well, me. And said a lot of things I’d been saying but about me and figure skating in general and then the twins who I actually ended up defending in regards to their skill. And I realized with horror that I was well on my way to becoming the person I hated the most in the entire world.”

“That has to be jarring.”

“It was. Very much so.” the duck confesses. “It’s been a very difficult journey. Part of it was simple maturity, part of it is research but the truth is, if I hadn’t already been set on changing myself, I wouldn’t have what I have with my lover right now.” He actually puts his hand over Riley’s. Riley turns his head to look down at it, then goes back to looking away, silently, not really present in the conversation at all. “We’d both probably be in jail for beating each other senseless after the first kiss. With much the same results as now. I much prefer the way things turned out. Though I’d have made sure to stuff the empty doornob with something, if I could change anything.”

“That would have led to both of you competing against each other in the olympics, though. Do you think that would have affected your performance any? Maybe the urge not to quite do your best?”

“Ha! We’re both far too competitive for that. If Riley ever thought I threw a match in any way, he would never speak to me again. Why would I do something so foolish? Riley has too much pride and integrity to ever do less than her best. If she didn’t for some reason I would be very angry with her. I would not expel him from my bed for that, though, because love makes fools of us all.”

“Sex makes people like you stupid as well.” Riley gives a small smile.

“You’ve been awfully quiet today, Riley.” Becky Brighteyes looks over to her, relentlessly pouncing at the first sign of movement. “I’m surprised you don’t have as much to say about your shocking relationship with your lifelong rival.”

“There’s nothing for me to say.” She shrugs, still calm and fairly unenergetic. “I haven’t exactly had time to process my feeling about much of anything yet. I haven’t exactly made time, though. I’m sorry if I’m not my normal ClickBait self, but I’m not exactly in the mood to dance for the cameras right now.” Is all she says.

“I understand it may be a difficult time for you, with your brother in the hospital.”

“Sibling.” Riley corrects the hostess.

“Pardon?”

“My sibling, or twin if it’s easier. Chris is Enby today, And for the foreseeable future.” Riley tells them. “Chris always feels Enby when they have to wear hospital gowns. So if you could use they/them pronouns and gender neutral terms for them at least until Chris gets out of the hospital, or informs you otherwise. We’d appreciate it.”

“Oh, yes. We’ll make sure to remember that.”

Chris can’t help but smile a little, it’s true, he usually feels enby whenever he’s in the need to wear hospital gowns, but honestly, right now he largely feels like his mother seems to in regards to gender, absolutely apathetic as to what he’s called at all. That’s almost like the opposite of emby. Male and female are kind of to the left and right of it. So angelic? Empty feels more accurate. It just doesn’t seem to matter at all at the moment just like everything else.

“So you’re enby today?” Shelly asks, hugging him tightly.

“I’m whatever you want to call me today.”

“Would you like to be Michelle with me today?”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to be anything really.”

“Ah, The Human Formerly Known as Chris then.” Shelly makes him laugh. Though she cheats by ticking him very slightly.

“Ow, easy.” He laughs.

“Sorry.”

Do you need anything?” She rests her head against his. “Flowers, shiny rainbow cellophane butterflies hanging from the ceiling? Glitter and holly wood vampire teeth? Unicorn horns, chess piece suspenders. How about a tail?”

“Nah, I want bunny ears.”

“Poking out of a lace lined victorian bonnet?”

“You know me so well.” Chris smiles as Shelly reaches into her purse and pulls one out like Mary Poppins, and puts it on her cousin’s head. 

“You know what I think? I think we need to live stream this bitch.”

“Do… do I look okay for a live stream?” Chris frowns. “I won’t make people cry to look at me?”

“Chris, everyone will be crying their eyes out because they love you so much and are so glad you’re alive and value you so much. Even just seeing your smile again will just make them all so happy and relieved that they will burst into happy healing tears that will make their faces a fountain of snot and blubbering that will give them a massive headache but will make them feel very good when they wake up in the morning.” This gets a little laugh out of Chris, which fades away when he looks down at his hands.

“You are lacking your usual props.” Shelly rests her chin on his shoulder. “Fortunately I brought some spares.” She goes back into her bag and pulls out a large boa looking thing with sticks and fuzzy cuffs at the end.

“I’m afraid to ask.”

“They’re your new arms. At least for now. I have others for when you can make a tight fist.” Shelly unsnaps the middle of the boa. And attaches the cuffs to each of Chris’ wrists.

“Okay, maybe no?” His voice trembles a little.

“Shoot. Right. Sorry.” Shelly takes them off. “How about like bracers? You know, like sleeves?”

“Not yet?”

“Okay. I’ll be the puppeteer.” She slides the two pieces of fuzzy arms though the armholes of the hospital gowns, attaches them behind his shoulders, then takes hold of the sticks.

“I… Can you see my bandages?” Chris asks looking down at this chest, then arms.

“Hold on.” Shelly adjusts his robe. “There you do. How do you want me to do your makeup?”

“So I need it?”

“Pffft. Never. You are ridiculously photogenic you bastard.” As if she isn’t herself. Shelly sets up the tablet.”Oh, don’t ever go into modeling, things happen that would send Riley on a killing spree. I’m omnipotent, so you know…” she chucks his chin. “I’m fine, but I can’t be there with you all the time.” 

“I’m tired of doing this.”

“Social media?”

“Keeping Riley from being Riley. It’s moot. No one would want me to model for them now anyways.”

“ Bullshit, I mean, you’re not exactly hand and foot model material, but that face? For makeup? Do you want to model?” Shelly asks.

“I don’t know. I just don’t want to not do it just because Riley will throw a tantrum. Okay? Time to reassure my fans that I’ve survived and will survive.” He takes a breath. “Alright. Let’s start this bitch.”

“You’re doing it all wrong.” Abigail hears as she nears the hospital room. “Here, gimmie.”

“Please don’t fight over my arms. They’re new.” Chris sounds amused.

“And suuuuper flexible.” Tris singsongs, doing something that makes Chris laugh.

“Ow ow ow.” Abigail sees her cousin wince a little, though they’re still smiling. “Stop being so funny. I swear you two are going to kill me.” A small pair of red muppet arms cross themselves across Chris’ chest. “Or at least make me bust a few stitches. Literally.” The hands gently rub his chest. “You can stop now, you know.” the arms point back to Tris who’s puppeteering them.

“Am I interrupting something?” Abigail asks. Chris looks at her in surprise, his face

suddenly conflicted and unsure. 

“ABBY-GALE!” Shelly raises her own hands in greeting. “Yay! My Abby-girl is here!”

“Must you be so loud?” Abigail winces.

“Okay, live stream over now. Thank you all for being so kind and supportive of my precious little penis having cousin.” The muppet hands cover Chris’ eyes at this.

“That was beyond inappropriate, Michelle.” Abigail frowns as Tris elbows her in the side.

“No it makes our little Cris special because he’s the only cousin we have who has one.” Shelly coos and kisses Chris’ head.

“This is why nobody likes you, Michelle.” Abigail frowns, walking in.

“You know you love me.” She blows her a kiss.

“A penis is not what makes him special.” Tris covers Chris’ ears with the hands.

“Besides I’m fairly sure Riley has both male parts pickled in a jar somewhere in her closet.” Abigail reminds her.

“Okay, first of all, that was a gag gift and they’re not human.” Shelly protests. “But no, I mean our precious Chris will never know that joys of pregnancy. Sharing your life with a precious tiny being growing inside you, feeling it grow and move. There’s nothing like it. So you need extra kisses and snuggles to make up for missing out on that.” Shelly rubs her cheek against Chris’ who doesn’t look like he feels all that deprived.

“Well, there are always bot flies.” Abigail comments.

“Oh, gross.” Tris turns her face away.

“Can someone please stop the live stream before I die of embarrassment?” Chris begs.

“Oh, wait first we have to introduce Abigail to everybody.” Shelly grabs the tablet and flips the camera. “This is my other lovely little cousin, Abigail. Isn’t she beautiful? She’s smart, talented, dependable, super responsible, rich and just so elegant and dignified.”

“And engaged.” Abigail reminds her. Shelly just ignores her.

“See how adorably little she is? A little ethnic polly pocket to take with you everywhere.”

“That’s not better than ‘my little cocoa bean” Shelly.”

“I bet you didn’t expect that after just hearing her voice. This precious little thing before you, you expect a soft little pretty voice, but then she opens her mouth and ‘Boom’ Kathleen Turner!”

“In case everyone was wondering yes, she is always this relentlessly obnoxious.” Abigail informs them looking at the responses. “Kathleen Turner is a late twentieth century actress, My favorite movies of hers are Romancing the Stone and Romancing the Stone 2. This is over. Good bye.” She snaps her fingers and the tablet turns off.

“Awww. I wanted you to sing for everybody, too.” Shelly pouts. 

“Chris’ live stream is not ‘The Abigail Show’ nor do I ever want one to be.” Abigail gives Shelly a stern look. “I’d like to speak to Chris alone, if you please.”

“Sure. I need to do a few things anyway. Tris, want to bring the good news to the camp?” 

“Okay, I guess. If Chris doesn’t want me to stay.” Tris gently puts her hand on his shoulder.

“No. I’m okay.” He mumbles. “Thanks.” Tris whispers something into Chris’ ear and gets a nod in response.

“Remember to walk out, Michelle.” Abigail reminds her cousin not to just vanish and walks over to sit in the chair next to Chris. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better.” he looks bashfully down at his lap.

“I was very harsh with you. I didn’t think you would care to see me yet. You don’t need any additional stress. Your focus needs to be on your physical health and recovery.” She smooths out her skirt. “That said, your sibling has always been good at pushing you to take that extra step you need to excel at anything physically. You’re the only thing she truly loves and always manage to bring out the soft, gentle, caring side of her. You should be taken care of now. And Riley is the one who could probably do it best.”

“I don’t have the strength to coax the best out of Riley. My darling Twin is extremely high maintenance. And as you said I need to focus on my own recovery. I know you promised to try and get me to let her back in to see me…..”

“Tris told you.” Abigail concludes, unbothered by it.

“Yes, and she told me what you made her do for this, too.” Chris frowns.

“It wasn’t just to humiliate her.”Abigail informs him calmly. “It was to see if she had the self control to behave herself when she saw you again. You have to admit that was a fairly impressive feat for her.”

“I know. I know he can behave himself. But he won’t be able to handle this. He can’t handle seeing me hurt until he knows I’m going to be okay. But I’m not okay. I may never be okay again. I’m definitely not okay enough to convince him of anything else. I’m tired of being his handler. I’m tired of letting him control my life. I just plain don’t want him in it anymore.” Chris looks away a little ashamed to admit it.

“I think at the very least Riley deserves to hear that from you, Chris.’ Abigail says carefully. Riley certainly won’t believe it from anyone else. “In the end you’re the only one she’ll listen to you, about you. And I think you know that.” Chris gives an unhappy, reluctant nod at this. “If Riley can gather enough strength to prostrate herself at my feet and calmly apologize for her behavior, I think you can muster the strength for one phone call.”

“Okay. I’ll think of what to say to her and call her later today.”

“Good.” Abigail stands up. “And Chris, I think you handled yourself very well. You got a message out and used everything at your disposal to try and ensure your survival. Don’t let anyone make you feel ashamed of that, not even yourself.” Chris looks up at her, surprised that she’s know how he feels. “I know you, Chris. You’re the kind that would feel guilty about taking advantage of a person’s feelings for you, even if you were more than justified in doing so in order to save your own life. If the feelings become unbearable and threaten to destroy you, call me so I can help you take them away.” Chris just nods and watches her walk back out again. 


End file.
